Murder on the European Express
by The Author's Mighty Pen
Summary: Bates works as a detective and is returning to London from a conference in Vienna. Anna, traveling on the same train, is a crime reporter coming from the same conference. They work as partners to figure out who murdered one of the passengers on their train in the middle of the night as they are stranded in a snowstorm.
1. The Woman on the Train

He shook the man's hand and climbed into the waiting cab. Speaking to the driver in German they set off. Within a few minutes the driver pulled in front of the train station and offered to help the man with his bag. He politely refused, paid the fare, and disembarked.

Pulling his ticket from his pocket he showed one of the conductors on the platform. The conductor read the details and pointed to a far platform, rattling off directions in fast German. The man nodded, thanked the conductor, and made his way toward his platform.

As he climbed the stairs to take the walkway to the far boarding platform he saw a woman struggle with her bag on the first landing. It would be hard to miss her, struggling as she was to lift the overlarge bag up an intimidating second set of stairs. More than that, he could not pull himself away from the small, blonde woman still giving all her effort to her task.

He slowed his pace, watching for anyone else who might assist her. When no one else came, everyone giving her a wide berth, he strode toward her. The rap of his cane on the concrete stairs set the rhythm of his halting pace up the stairs but stopped when he reached her.

"Could I be of service?" The woman startled a little when he spoke to her. As she looked up at him she frowned but he almost drown in the blue of her eyes. When she cleared her throat to get his attention he shook himself and tried again, "Could I be of service?"

"I'm sorry," She waved her hands, "I don't speak German."

He bit his tongue, appreciating her efforts with a nonnative language and trying to place the accent that flattened the vowels in her mouth. Swallowing, he changed to English, "Might I be of service?"

"Oh thank goodness," She put a hand to her chest, "When you started speaking German I was terrified you wouldn't speak English and then I'd have to try and mime to you what was going on."

"What is going on?"

"As you can tell, given that you stopped, I've got to get this bag up these stairs, over that walkway, and down the stairs on the other side to make my train." She threw her hands in the air, "I seem to have purchased more than I can carry."

"Holiday?"

"Business." She leaned forward, as if she wanted to share a secret. "But I do try and fit in a little holiday on every business trip."

"When one's in a city as beautiful as Vienna it would be a crime not to." He set down his bag and practiced lifting hers. It strained a little and he wondered if he could get it all the way to her platform but he knew she never could. "Tell you what, how about you grab my bag and I'll grab yours since I think we're on the same train. That way we both reach our platform with the minimum of strain."

"Sounds agreeable enough." She reached for his bag but paused, "Are you on the express to London?"

"I am," He lifted her bag in his left hand, "I'm John, by the way. John Bates."

She stuck out her hand and he moved his cane to rest on his left arm to shake it, "Anna Smith. But I already know who you are, Mr. Bates."

"Do you?" John was almost loathe to take his hand back but his leg twitched and he needed the support of his cane.

"Of course," She lifted his bag and started up the stairs, her shorter stride keeping pace with his limping gait. "I was here for the conference as well. Wanted to see what new methods they're using in Europe that maybe will inspire our bobbies back home."

"And do you inspire them?"

She shrugged, "Not really since they find me more tiresome and underfoot than helpful. I guess it'll mostly come out in how I report their approach to their cases… which they won't thank me for."

"You're a crime reporter."

"By that tone I'd hazard you don't hold a high opinion of such individuals."

"I try not to judge but in my experience reporters would sell out their own mothers to report on a story and I don't have time for that kind of nonsense."

"That's fair," She shrugged, "My mother always said never make an enemy by accident so I tend toward the safe side, not stepping on any toes."

"Can't leave you too many stories."

"Makes me more friends though and they talk to me where they scoff at the others." She smiled, "It's effective, as a strategy, but mostly they ignore me anyway."

"Not sure how anyone could do that." John risked a smile at her and felt a rise in his chest when she returned it.

"You're very charming for a policeman."

"How'd you know I'm a policeman?" They reached the stairs and took them slowly, mindful of the other people and John's cane.

"Other than being a crime reporter?"

"By your accent you're not one in my precinct. I would've remembering interacting with someone as captivating as yourself."

"You are a charmer and you're right, I'm not based on London," Ms. Smith dodged a man swinging a briefcase quickly by them, heedless of how it might have impacted anyone else. "I'm based in Yorkshire. Scarborough, to be exact."

"Then how do you know me?"

"I listened to your presentation, Mr. Bates. I did say I attended the conference."

He paused, resting the bag at to the side on the walkway, "How'd you find it?"

"Tame."

"Team?"

"Yes, tame."

"What's that mean?"

She shrugged, "I know you've done more daring things to great effect in London in the areas of observation skills training, advanced questioning, and the like but what you presented you barely scratched the surface of your successes."

"No one likes a boaster."

"It's not boasting if it's fact, Mr. Bates."

"Then one should never feed meat to a baby, Ms. Smith."

"But a baby hardly grew to adulthood still drinking mother's milk." Ms. Smith pointed to her bag, "If that's too heavy I can try and-"

"No," He hefted it again, "I don't think you can manage your trinkets."

"I'll have you know there are novels in there."

"Must be why it's so weighty." He feigned testing the weight, "Avid reader?"

"I am a reporter and I like books."

"Did you leave all your clothes at home to fit them?"

"Might've done but needs must, Mr. Bates." Ms. Smith led the way down to the platform and they took up positions on a bench not far from an older couple. "When would I ever be back in Vienna to buy them again?"

"That's a good question." John shifted on the bench, stretching out his leg, "When will you be?"

"Not anytime soon. I had to scrape and plead just to come for the conference."

"You wouldn't holiday here?"

"Mr. Bates," Ms. Smith turned to face him, "How much do you think a crime reporter makes?"

"Not much more than a policeman I'd imagine."

"You'd be right." She gestured to the station around them, "When, on that salary, could I ever possibly afford to come here?"

"I don't know." John laughed, pulling out his ticket and checking his seating, "I scrimped and saved for a month just to find a seat in second class."

Ms. Smith drew out her ticket and compared it, "What do you know Mr. Bates, we're next door neighbors now."

"And what of our other neighbors?" She narrowed her eyes and then followed his gaze to those around them. He pointed to the couple at the end of their bench, "What do you make of them?"

"Recently married." She pointed to the wedding bands, "She keeps fidgeting with hers, like she's not used to it but it comforts her to check it's there."

"What if she just doesn't like it?"

Ms. Smith gave John a look, "Watch how they can't keep their hands apart for more than a second. That's the sign of love, not marital frustration borne of years in company with one another."

John leaned over slightly and saw how the couple kept adjusting their grip but never quite let go. "Nice touch. You did pay attention to my presentation."

"I also heard your lecture, in York, about deductive reasoning and the applications of observation in crime solving."

John suppressed a grin, "Wanting to prove yourself Ms. Smith?"

She lifted her chin, "Try me, Mr. Bates."

"Alright," He eyed the platform and pointed to a table with three couples. "What about them?"

"Married. The women are sisters."

"Really?"

Ms. Smith pointed, "The blonde man keeps putting a hand on the woman with dark eyes. His gaze occasionally darts to her stomach, giving me the impression she's either had a bad go with the food here or, the more likely, she's pregnant. The blonde woman with the man whose ears stick out a bit, they're newly weds and he thinks he's the luckiest man in the world to have her. The last two, the one with the Irish accent and the brunette, have been married the longest since their touches are a little more restrained but by the way her arm is resting on her stomach I'd say she's also pregnant. Perhaps baby number two since he's not fidgeting as much about it."

"I'm impressed."

Ms. Smith laughed, "I cheated a bit."

"How so?"

"I know them. Those are the Crawley sisters. The thinnest of them, Mary Crawley, married Matthew two years ago. The second oldest, Edith, is the editor of a woman's magazine in London but lives in Scotland as lady of a very large castle owned by her husband, Bertie. And the last two, Sybil and Tom, caused a bit of scandal up north because he's an Irish socialist and insisted their first child be christened in the Catholic Church when he married the daughter of an Anglican Earl."

"The Crawleys?" John craned his head to see an older couple sitting just a few tables away. "As in the daughters of Robert Crawley, Earl of Grantham?"

"Yes," Ms. Smith frowned, "Was this a test?"

"Not intentionally." John pointed to the older couple, "Before I worked at the Yard I served with Lord Grantham in the Great War."

"Then you know the family?"

"I haven't seen any of them in years." John shrugged, "Small world I guess."

"Very small." Ms. Smith nodded toward a set of older women, "The Dowager Countess and Mrs. Crawley seemed to have joined them on their trip."

"Mrs. Crawley?"

"Matthew's mother."

John made a 'hm' sound, "Must've been a very large family holiday."

"Must have." Ms. Smith laughed, "What about those two?"

"Which two?"

"Those two," Ms. Smith used her hand to steer John's head toward two men debating hotly on the side of the platform. "What do you make of them?"

"Government types." John used his finger to draw up and down them. "The shorter of the two, with the lovely baritone, more than likely works a very demanding government job and uses opera singing as an outlet while the other man is nobility and recently married."

"Smell it on him can you?"

"Well," John shrugged, "I've worked with Charles Blake before and met his friend there, Tony Gillingham, more than a few times at social functions."

"Now we're just having a go at one another." Ms. Smith settled on the bench, "We travel all this way, to Austria no less, and we just see people we see everyday."

"Not him," John put his hand on Ms. Smith's shoulder, "The tall, lanky stalk of a man reading a book in what looks like Japanese."

"How mysterious." She shivered, "I always like someone I can't identify."

"Car enthusiast." John gestured to the man's trousers, "Those are oil stains. You can see them on the black of his pants when the light catches them just right."

"And those two?" Ms. Smith folded her arms and used her elbow as a pointer to the man with dark hair and a soulless expression whispering furtively to the woman with a sneer.

"Probably second class like us but not overly proud of the fact. Seem rather bitter to be honest." The train whistle shrieked through the station and John stood, helping Ms. Smith to her feet. "But we'll have two days to find out if we care to know more."

Someone knocked into John and he stumbled slightly. His cane slipped on the cement but Ms. Smith stepped forward to steady him. John struggled to get his cane back in place before she collapsed under his unexpected weight, and nodded his thanks to her.

"Alright there Mr. Bates?"

"Yes I am." He steadied his grip on his cane, "That was unexpected."

"Some bloke in too much of a hurry. Same one from the stairs if you believe our luck." Ms. Smith groaned, "And he's on our carriage."

"Not the happiest of circumstances." John picked up Ms. Smith's bag. "If you lead me to yours first, Ms. Smith, I can deposit your bag and then we can settle mine."

"Already inviting yourself to my cabin and we've only just met." She faked surprise, "How scandalous."

"I didn't mean to imply- If you thought I had intentions to- Ms. Smith I can assure you that-" John stumbled but she put a hand on his arm, laughing.

"I'm joking, Mr. Bates. Of course we can take care of my bag first and then yours. It's no trouble. And please, call me Anna."

John smiled back at the look on her face and the sound of her laughter, "Then call me John, it'll save us syllables and time."

"Won't it just?"

They fell in line with the others and boarded carefully, conscious of John's cane. While they joined the shuffle of the valets working the bags of first class on and those trying to squeeze into second class John sighed. Anna turned to him, surprise on her face, and he waved his hand at the group.

"Just the frustration of it all."

"They're only a few bags, Mr. Bates."

"We're riding a train with the upper crust."

"Not a fan of the elite class are you?"

"I can't say I'm overly fond, no." He shook his head, "It'll be an interesting evening, that's all."

"Well," She looped her arm through his, "If you're too scared or nervous or tongue tied, don't worry they've a lot of grace. Stay by my side and I'll make sure they don't hurt you."

John chuckled, "I've never felt safer, Ms. Smith."

"Good." She pointed a finger at him, "And it's 'Anna', remember?"

"I remember."


	2. The Man Who Played with Fire

John checked his tie in the tiny mirror and jumped slightly when the door on the shared water closet slid to the side. Anna, dressed in a shimmering blue dress, yelped at the sight of him. She put a hand on her chest, trying to even her breathing as he cringed.

"Oh, sorry to interrupt your preparations Mr. Bates."

"No, I'm sorry, I should have realized you would need more time than me." John went to leave the space, "I'll just"-

"No, no," She waved her hand, "I should've knocked. I think we can manage."

"If you insist."

"I do." Anna worked her way in and while it was a little tight they managed. After a beat John risked saying something.

It could've been worse."

"What?" Anna looked at him in the mirror, applying her makeup.

John pointed to his clothing, "I could've been wearing nothing at all when you made your entrance so aren't we both lucky?"

"Not very."

"What?" John frowned, "You don't find it lucky?"

"Not in the slightest. I might've liked to catch you a little more unawares." Anna ducked under his arm as he froze in surprise, "It'd leave a little less to my imagination."

John coughed, "Ms. Smith I believe you've confused me for-"

"Someone less attractive?" She pulled her hair back, adjusting it before pinning it in place. "I can't think of anyone else I'd rather catch in a less than appropriate condition in our shared water closet."

"Is it just you or are all reporters prone to speaking their minds so freely?"

Anna shrugged, "Might be both. I would've thought you would speak a little more freely yourself."

"Why'd you think that?"

"When you've seen death, Mr. Bates, you stop pretending that life is a series of events to tip toe around." Anna turned to the side, checking herself in the mirror one final time, and then stepped back. "I haven't got time to pretend I don't like someone if I do or that I'm not interested if I am. All that cloak and dagger to romance is a waste of time… and far too Victorian. Too much like my mother."

"Your mother was a Victorian?"

"Well, technically, an Edwardian but I have to say," Anna winked up at John, "I much prefer the age when our King abdicates in favor of his American mistress."

"I'm not sure he set an excellent precedent for ruling England in a very short lived Edwardian age."

"Good thing it was short and we're all Georgians again." Anna opened the door back to her cabin, "I do hope you don't have plans to share a table at dinner with anyone else this evening, Mr. Bates, as I'm rather looking forward to continuing this conversation in private."

John reached back into his cabin for his dinner jacket and slid into the hall, meeting Anna there as she wrapped a shawl around herself. "I'd be a fool to ask anyone but you."

They walked into the dining car together and the waiter grabbed two menus before leading them to a table. The car rattled slightly but John moved ahead of Anna to draw out her chair and then thanked the waiter for his. In a second they both had menus in their hand but Anna spoke first to the waiter, stopping him leaving.

"Two whites to start, and then a red for the main course."

The waiter nodded and hurried up the line of tables as John turned to Anna, offering her his menu, "I feel almost unprepared to make any kind of decision about dinner when there are only two things on this menu I can pronounce and one of them is alcohol."

"I guess police detectives don't have many opportunities at fine dining."

"Not often and certainly not French."

"So when, then?"

"What?" John turned up from his struggle to decipher the menu.

"You said 'not often' instead of never. That leads me to conclude you've had nice meals before. I was curious when that was."

"Once a year, at the Christmas police ball-"

"Which you'll miss because of this conference?"

John conceded, "Which I'll miss because of this conference. But those balls have dinners already predetermined. I eat what's on the plate given to me."

"And do you dance?" Anna smiled to herself as John pursed his lips.

"I have been known to, occasionally."

"I'd have to see that." Anna smiled up at the waiter, accepting her drink and sipping at it before turning to examine the others in the dining car. "Have you ever wondered why we all put ourselves in these close quarters just for convenience?"

"Because the alternatives are far less pleasant. I read _Dracula_ and the idea of riding across Europe in horse drawn carriages seems rather old fashioned." John shrugged, "There are those who try to do it with cars but I honestly don't see why anyone would want to subject themselves to the misery of such cramped conditions for so long."

"You don't?"

"I don't even drive Ms. Smith."

"I thought we agreed I was 'Anna'?"

John leaned on the table, "I thought we agreed I was 'John' but you've been addressing me as 'Mr. Bates' all evening."

Anna laughed, sipping at her drink, "I guess I have."

The waiter returned and Anna handed over the menus, "Please give us the appetizers for the evening and the chef's special."

"Will you be interested in dessert as well?"

John and Anna turned to one another and Anna's grin widened, "I think we will, yes please."

As the waiter left John caught sight of the man who knocked into them on the platform. He groaned, "I guess we're sharing the dining car with first class."

"Is that a bad thing?" Anna took another sip of her wine and then choked into it when the man pulled a chair to their table and sat down with them.

"Excuse us sir," John turned to him, tapping the table in front of him as the man licked his lips a little at Anna. "You're interrupting a private conversation."

"I'm looking to have a private conversation." He adjusted his chair to face John, "I heard you worked for the Yard."

"Where'd you hear that?"

"First class. There's a bloke there knows you from some time in the Army or something. I caught wind of it and got curious." The man leaned forward "So do you?"

"I do."

"Well, then you've got an obligation to help those in need right?"

John paused, sneaking a look at Anna, who only shrugged, before facing the man again. "I swore an oath to serve and protect so perhaps, in a way, I do."

"What if I told you I needed your protection?"

"Then I'd have to know the context."

"Of what?"

"Of what kind of protection you're hoping to get from me."

"You've got a gun haven't you?" The man jerked his hand toward John, "If you've got one then you use it for me."

"Use it for you?"

The man leaned over the table, "Yeah, protect my back and everything."

"From whom?" Anna interjected and the man leered at her again.

"From those after me."

"That's your problem," John put a finger on the man's shoulder, "I protect and defend the innocent mate. The way you're talking, about people after you, gives me the impression that you're not innocent."

"Until proven guilty." The man teased and John shook his head.

"The innocent don't need protecting." John shrugged, "And since this isn't my jurisdiction I really don't have a right to give you anything but advice."

"And what advice is that?"

"Don't get involved with the wrong people, don't be the wrong people." John pointed to the rest of the dining car, "And leave our table."

"And what if I told you that someone on this train is trying to kill me? Would you give me protection then?""

"No because I'm not interested in giving it to you."

"What if I paid you?"

"My integrity's worth more than whatever dirty money you'll try and pass off to me."

The man grabbed at John's lapel, "There's someone trying to kill me on this train. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

John removed his hand, "No because I still fail to see where that's relevant to my interests. I investigate crime and the only way I would save you is by putting you in handcuffs myself for whatever it is you did to get yourself caught in this mess."

"I just want help-"

"Then defend yourself because I'm not at the point where I care." John stood up, pulling the man's chair out, "Good evening."

The man stood up, almost knocking the chair from John's hands. "You're signing my death warrant. I hope you realize that. This is on your head."

"No, it's not because it falls firmly on your head and whoever wants it." John sat back down, "All I did was refuse to help you avoid the warrant the Reaper wants to serve on you. Good evening."

The man walked away and John turned back to Anna. "Sorry about that."

"I'm not." She set down her glass and grabbed his hand. "I thought you handled that rather repellent man with more grace than I would've spared for him."

"That surprises me." John sipped at his glass, "You seem like someone who is kind to everyone."

"But I don't suffer fools gladly." Anna waved a hand in the direction of the man arguing with the waiter, "He's a fool."

"Obviously." John smiled at the waiter when he deposited the appetizers. "What have you ordered for us?"

"That's asparagus," Anna pointed to something green, "But honestly I've no idea about the other parts of this dish."

"An adventure for us then?"

"To adventures." Anna clinked her glass against hers. "What's your biggest adventure to date Mr. Bates?"

"Other than this meal?" John put a forkful in his mouth, chewing a moment to think, "Possibly the Great War."

"Where did you serve?"

"I was stationed in Morocco but we fought the Ottomans out of North Africa so I went everywhere and anywhere."

"North Africa. How exotic."

John swallowed, "Too much sand."

"Did you learn how to ride a camel?"

"I did."

"How well?"

"Poorly. I was dumped on my backside more than I stayed in the saddle." Anna giggled and tried to cover her laugh.

"I'm sorry, that must've been so painful." She burst into stiches, John suppressing his own smile as he watched her face, possibly imagining the scene, and adoring the way her face lit up.

John shook his head and pointed at her with his fork once she calmed enough to brush the tears from her eyes, "You laugh but camels are disgusting beasts with temperaments like my ex-wife."

That paused her laughs and John worried about the flash over Anna's eyes. "So you've been married?"

John nodded, "Divorced for three years and, though my youthful memories are a bit hazy, I don't think I've been happier than I've been since she left my life."

"It's none of my business," Anna focused on her plate, cutting through a piece of meat before biting it off her fork, "But why'd you marry her if it was so miserable for you to be with her?"

"I was about to be shipped out, we'd been together for a long time, and I thought the best way to provide for her was to marry her." John sat back a moment, chewing, "That way, if I died, she'd get my pension through the army and provide for herself."

"That's very noble."

"Not really when I was hoping I'd go down in glory and never live to do anything about our marriage."

"Then, I repeat my question, why marry her?"

"We'd been living in sin for six months before I left." John sucked his tongue a moment, "I think I should've known then that we weren't a good fit if it took the prospect of death and war to drag me to the registry. When it's two Horsemen of the Apocalypse that force your decision you should probably reconsider."

"We all do things we regret. Though I can't say mine were apocalyptic." Anna sipped her wine, "Did you have any children?"

"Horrible as it may sound, if we had they wouldn't have been mine."

"Your wife was unfaithful?"

"It was the worst kept secret." John raised a hand, "She took to it when I was gone and since I was away until the war ended, and then some time after dealing with the aftermath of it all, she got bored waiting."

"I don't think I'd get bored waiting for you." Anna pursed her lips as John raised his eyebrows, "What? Surprised again?"

"You barely know me, Ms. Smith," John chuckled, "We can't even address one another by our first names so I hardly think you could make a decision like that on just a gut instinct."

"Don't you use it on the job?"

"Use what?"

"Your gut?" Anna waved her hand at him, "I'm spoken with enough policemen to know that some swear by their gut. Claim it's never wrong."

"Usually it's just telling them to get a pint."

"Be that as it may," Anna swatted at him, "Hasn't your gut ever told you something?"

"More times than I can count." John coughed into his napkin, "Usually that the food I ate wasn't safe."

"Morocco?"

"And Egypt and Italy." John clicked his teeth, "You think you're safe with all that pasta and bread handed to you by a kindly woman speaking a stream of Italian you don't understand but it's a ploy."

"I'd love to see Italy someday."

"The bits I saw of it were hilly, rocky, and hot."

"And where does the petulant Mr. Bates take his holidays?"

"Ireland." John folded his arms, "Land of eternal emerald."

"I thought I heard that trill in your voice."

"Do you like it?"

"I find many parts about your very likable Mr. Bates." Anna licked her lips and John coughed.

"You're incorrigible Ms. Smith."

"I'm determined and dogged, Mr. Bates, there's a distinct difference." Anna raised her hand for the waiter, "We'll take the main course now and the red, thank you."

John waited for the waiter to leave before speaking again, "You're far too practiced at this. You'll have me believing you were raised for this life and then chose to downgrade to crime reporting."

"Yes and no, in a way." Anna traded her first wine glass for the next. "I'm not from money but my mother still disapproves of what I do for a living. She wanted me to seek out a job as a secretary or a phone operator."

"You do have a lovely voice."

Anna put a hand to her chest, "Aren't you just full of compliments."

"So far I'd say no since that's the first quality one I've had for you all evening." John smiled, "But I can find more if you don't mind."

"A lady never says no to compliments. Or I assume them would if I were a lady but I'm not."

"You're a lady to me." John saw Anna pause, "And I'm sure I've never met a finer one… or one who's more persistent or who I want to know better."

"There you go again with your compliments."

"You know what they say, 'apply liberally'."

"I'll drink to that."

They touched glasses and John took a sip before clearing his throat, "Back to my original question. How are you both educated as a reporter and a lady of society if you're not society?"

"We can only be what we are." Anna took a breath, "But I know how to finely dine because I grew up with the Crawley sisters."

"School?"

"I had a scholarship to their private institution and I was in the same class as their oldest daughter, Mary. We got on well and so when I had no way to get home for holidays, because my mother couldn't afford the expense, the Crawleys took me in. They all but adopted me while I was in school."

"They are noble people." John swirled his glass before testing, "I served under Lord Grantham in the War. Always worried more about his men than himself."

"Good people usually do."

"Is that why you took to crime reporting?" John leaned back to allow the waiter to give them the main course, "Because you're 'good people'?"

"In a way." Anna gestured to the appropriate utensils for the course so John could grab the right ones, "When I left school I earned a scholarship to read at University and I wanted to do something different. I'd read about these female journalists in America who'd braved the world to report the truth and I wanted to be one of those people."

"But your paper you reporting petty theft and domestic disputes."

"For now, but I've already proven myself to them. If they have a call, they send me to it. With that kind of trust you build a foundation they'll use later to call you to do more daring things." Anna sawed at her meat, "Isn't that the way it worked for you?"

"In a way. I left the Army and then joined the Yard because they needed people with skills I had and I needed the problems they had for me to solve." John paused, "Those were the only problems I was solving."

"Was this when your marriage was on the rocks?"

"My marriage was always on the rocks. This was when my marriage was the Fires of Hell itself." John shook his head, "She was always enough to drive a man to drink but when I got back from the Army it was enough to drive a man to empty a pub singlehandedly."

"Did you drink?"

"No more than regulation stated I could. But there were nights," John gave a bitter chuckle, "There were nights when the only thing that kept me sober through it was the knowledge if I was drunk on duty I'd have nothing. I wasn't that stupid."

"I find it admirable." Anna chewed, "To push beyond your pain for the greater good. That's greater than most people can accomplish."

"I don't think it's admirable to bury yourself in work to escape the problem you created. Or to wish you could drink a river of beer dry to forget."

"And, as I said Mr. Bates, we all make mistakes. Sometimes the romantic ones are the hardest to undo."

John studied her face, "Do you have a romantic entanglement you wish you could undo?"

"Not like yours, no." Anna set her utensils down. "I had this man I walked out with for awhile and we were close. But one night, when we'd arranged for him to walk me home, he was drunk. I left without him, thinking he forgot, and he accosted me on the street on my way home, angry I'd left without him. I rebuffed him and it almost got violent."

"Did anyone help?"

"That's the thing, I was the junior writer on the crime desk but the policeman walking the beat that night recognized me. He took my boyfriend in for 'drunk and disorderly', which lost him his posh job when he spent a night in jail."

John cringed, "That's not good."

"No, it wasn't. He blamed me, said if I'd told the policeman off or vouched for me they wouldn't have held him or he wouldn't have lost his job." Anna sighed, "He moved to Leeds shortly after that and most of the men in my village kept a wide berth."

"Their loss."

"How so?"

"I don't think I'd be able to stay away."

Anna's eyes dilated and she put a hand on his, drawing it toward her, "Might I propose something to you?"

"Of course."

John frowned as she leaned forward to speak in his ear, "We should skip dessert."

"What?"

"I've something else in mind." She smiled, "Are you interested John?"

"I feel I should be very interested." John turned his head to whisper back, his blood already humming as she used his first name, "But I'm not sure we should do what you're intimating."

"Why not?"

"Because my cabin's not nearly big enough for that."

"We can make do." Anna ran her tongue over her lower lip, "If you want."

"I do."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

John stood, "Nothing at all."

They both stood as the waiter approached to take their plates. Anna held up her hand, "I know we said we wanted dessert here but could we request you deliver it to a cabin?"

The waiter seemed confused but nodded. "Of course. Which cabin?"

Anna slipped her hand through John's, "Send it to my cabin, thank you."

They walked back toward John's cabin and he only took a moment to open the door. Once they were inside John debated the knife's edge where they stood, bodies just inches from one another with her hands mapping him slowly. Looking into her eyes John ran the scenarios through his head, debating at lightning speed.

"Anna," He brought a hand to her face, running his fingers over her cheek. "We have a choice."

"I thought we already made our choice?"

"This is choice is between how we proceed." She stared up at him, listening carefully, "We can either burn ourselves to cinders by moving quickly-"

"I like the sound of that."

"Or," He brushed his finger over her lips, "We can move slowly, enough to set a forest ablaze and prolong the experience."

"Are you asking for my decision?" Anna slipped a hand through his jacket, her other drawing his head close to hers.

"Yes," John nodded his head, "Lady's choice."

"Both."

"Both?" John frowned, "How do we do both?"

"We've got all night John. This train isn't stopping soon so we have enough time." Anna barely touched her lips to his, "If that's what you want?"

"Yes please." John seized her mouth, holding her neck in his hands.

She separated them, her hand sliding up his waistcoat and shirt to his tie, "So cinders first then?"

"We'll go slow later," John lowered his head and sucked at her neck as her hands yanked his dinner jacket to the floor.

"Perfect. Going slow is overrated."

"I agree." John's fingers glided over her dress, feeling for buttons or zippers or clasps before sliding the straps over her shoulders.

Anna wiggled out of the dress and stepped clear, pushing John back to sit on the bed. His hands cupped her cheeks again when she used the advantage of her height in her shoes and standing above him to take control of the kiss she forced on him. John tilted his head to the side to take more of her mouth and moaned into her when she ran her tongue over his lower lip.

Opening to her, John held her tighter at the back of the head before helping her untie his tie and work his shirt buttons loose. Without breaking their kiss John flung his waistcoat, tie, and shirt to the floor. Anna groaned and pressed him backward, straddling his legs to press her tongue deeper and send her hands stroking over his chest.

John's own hands massaged her arms, slipping to brush against her breasts. She sighed into their kiss, breaking it to better position his hands on her. Grinding down on him Anna grinned when he groaned. Her hands slipped to her back and unclasped her brassiere, throwing it behind her before attacking John's neck.

He was convinced he could spend the rest of his life just holding and kneading her perfect breasts. But when she rocked her hips against his John focused on the task at hand. Ducking his head, John kissed her breasts before sucking one of her nipples into his mouth.

Her shriek was audible in first class but John continued massaging both her breasts, flicking his attention from the right to the left to the right again. Her nails scraped down his sides and John hissed, sending the vibration over her breasts, and Anna worked her fingers to his trousers. John lifted his hips and sat back as Anna dismounted to yank them and his pants over his legs, taking off his shoes and socks with the force of her movements.

In living memory John could recall no more beautiful sight than Anna standing in just her shoes, stockings, and knickers, eyeing him while licking her lips. She leaned over him, taking his arousal in hand, and stroked upward when she kissed John. He moved his hands to her hips, sliding his fingers under the line of her knickers to brush against her as his hips jerked.

Anna broke their kiss, resting her forehead against John's as her hand grasped him tighter, and cried out when one of his fingers breached her. John took her earlobe in his mouth, tugging before whispering to her, "You're already so ready for me Anna."

"I've been ready all night." Anna tore away, forcing her knickers and shoes off before crawling over the bed to position herself over him, "Slow is for later."

"Agreed." John traced up from her stockings to her thighs, resting his hands on her hips, "At your leisure."

"I think it's 'at my pleasure', John," Anna sunk down and threw her head back to moan as John grunted.

They waited a moment, adjusting to the feel of one another before John dug his fingers into her hip, "Move, please."

"With pleasure," Anna lifted and sank down again, twisting her hips to rock into him.

John could not more tear his eyes away than gouge them out as he watched Anna sway and move above him. His hands risked running back up to her breasts and Anna leaned forward to give him better access. Her own sounds, the shift sending him deeper into her and striking her in a new place, drove John rise up and coat her skin with kisses.

Their hips struck against one another, Anna dragging his lips to hers when her knees tightened at his hips. John kept his hand at her hip, controlling his own thrusts into her, and slid the other between them. Diligent fingers pressed at her center, slipping over the wetness he found there, and drove Anna's cries higher and higher.

With a final drive down, Anna sent herself over the edge. John held her close, giving her a moment as his own body tried to still the bucking motions, but when Anna kissed near his ear John knew she was ready. He tightened his hold over her back and rutted into her. His hand, still trapped between them, pressed and rubbed at her delicate nerves and soon Anna responded to the attention.

Driving herself down on him just as intently as before, Anna rose on her peak again and John joined her. Their mutual shouts of the other's names joined the sound of their bodies meeting. As they calmed, both still twitching slightly and shaking from the effort, John pulled Anna with him to lay back on the bed.

Her head positioned under his chin and John could still feel the pins holding her hair together. Tickling his fingers down her back John kissed the top of her head. He laughed to himself and, as Anna struggled to push herself up to see his face, he smiled, "Is it everything you imagined?"

"Better." Anna settled again, "Now I'm anticipating round two even more."

Knocking at Anna's cabin door had both of them sitting up. Anna slipped off, winking at his hiss before working her feet back into her shoes. She gathered her clothes and headed toward her room. John watched as she walked through their shared water closet, her perfect ass all he could focus on, and left her clothes in a heap on a chair before she pulled her dressing gown over herself.

She winked at John before speaking to the person at the door. A moment later she reappeared holding a platter and set it on the small table in the corner of John's room. "Dessert."

"What a way to prepare ourselves for round two." John pulled his trousers over his legs, feeling more comfortable sitting in them than in nothing as Anna handed him a fork, taking up a position above him on the edge of the table to kick her now shoeless feet in the air. "What did you order us?"

"If I remember, tonight is a molten cake." Anna opened the top and took a deep breath, "I do love chocolate."

"Then I should leave it all to you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Anna stopped him moving away from the dessert, "I'm not going to eat it all myself and I'm not the only one who needs to keep up my strength for the night ahead."

John could not stop his jaw dropping a little when she flashed her teeth at him to bite her fork, "I'm sure you'll be the death of me and I've barely met you Ms. Smith."

"But what a way to go that would be?" Anna sunk her fork into the cake, leaking the steaming chocolate from the center, "It's in my top three."

"Ways to die?"

"Yes," Anna licked up the side of the fork, "It's my second."

"And what, pray tell, could beat out sex as the best way to die?"

"Chocolate," Anna swirled her fork in the cake before pulling the bite toward her mouth, "Though you might change my opinion."

"I live to please."

"Oh, Mr. Bates, you pleased."

They ate, trading small comments back and forth, while John's eyes occasionally drifted over Anna. She noticed and moved purposefully to send her dressing gown gaping slightly to expose herself to his view. But all he could see were hints of her breasts. He tsked, pouting at her but Anna only grinned.

"It's no fun if I can't drive you wild."

"What if I want to drive you wild first?" John pushed the plate to the side and slid Anna over the tabletop so her legs were on either side of him.

Holding her hands at the back of his neck she narrowed her eyes at him, "What'd you have in mind?"

"Nothing particularly ambitious." John tugged the tie to her dressing gown and parted the sides to show him her body. "Just a chance to send you over the edge a few times."

"Is this the slow part?"

"The slower the better." John circled his fingers over her stomach before standing between her legs. "I intend to drive you to writhing agony."

"That's promising." Anna slid herself closer to him, "How?"

"Like this." John stroked his hands down her thighs, parting her so he could see her swollen and glistening folds.

Dipping his head John started to trace patterns over her collarbone with his lips and tongue while his fingers dragged through her folds. Anna grabbed his neck, her fingers flexing in time with his at her center. Slipping his middle finger inside John pulled from back to front, sinking deep and pulling to the edge before pressing back inside. The movements dragged her moisture over her and John risked a moment to remove his fingers and pull them into his mouth.

Complimenting the taste with his expression and throaty moan, John returned his fingers to her, using two to pry her open and glide inside. Anna tried to pull him to her mouth but instead John took her nipple into his mouth. When he bit down lightly there Anna arched her back.

She threw her head back, hissing a stream of words that all sounded like his name but John did not want to assume. He worked his fingers inside her, curling and driving in alternating strokes, while his thumb flicked at her hooded clit. The table rocked under the undulations of her hips but John maintained his focus on her breasts and center until he felt her clench around his fingers.

John released her breast and retook his seat. Anna used her arms on the table behind her to support herself but they shook slightly, like they might not hold the weight for long. Taking this into account, John rested his hands on her hips inside her dressing gown to pull her closer. He felt the tightness in his own trousers as the action gave him an uninhibited view of her.

Lowering his lips, John kissed the twitching nerves. The soprano howl that echoed over the two cabins had John grinning into the flat lap of his tongue over her. She tasted better than the chocolate dessert they shared and John drank up like the perfect nightcap. Licking and laving over her, spreading her flavor to every sweet taste bud he had.

Anna's body moved in his grip, her hips rutting into him as John risked one hand to open her for the penetration of his tongue. Her fingers dug into his hair and forced him closer but John could think of no better place to be. His fingers slipped inside her again, countering his tongue, and when she peaked the second time John had to use an arm at her back to keep her from falling backward.

John lifted her off the table and laid her out on the bed so she could be comfortable. He rolled the stockings down her legs, draping them over the chair with her dressing gown when she removed it. When her body moved of its own accord John set himself over Anna. Her hands came to the back of his neck and she raised herself to kiss him.

Perhaps it was the taste of herself on his tongue or maybe just how ready her body was but a moment later Anna's hips shifted and John grunted when he slipped into her. Anna wrapped a leg around his hip and John slid further. He broke the kiss when her ankles locked behind his back and he sat as deeply inside her as he could.

Her kiss to his cheek and then to the outside of his ear, had his blood almost boiling as she whispered, "I think we're ready for round two."

John drove into her. With Anna raking her nails down his back, digging her heels into his ass, and making her own symphony of satisfied sound, John could not hold back. He lost all finesse, driving roughly to undercut her sounds with his own groans and the slapping of flesh. She snuck a hand between them, brushing him as she rubbed herself.

Trying to maintain his dignity, John lifted at Anna's ass, changing the angle. She peaked with a scream, his name filling John's ears. The tug of her inner walls on him, her beautiful voice calling his name, and the feeling of her fingers over him had John finishing with two more thrusts.

His hips spasmed in time with hers as they settled and John tried to gather his breath. With shaking arms John maneuvered himself to the side, turning them both to face one another. Anna slipped off him to lay on her back and drag air into her lungs.

"I think, Mr. Bates, that I've altered my list."

"Have you?" John coughed, his throat raw as he struggled to breathe.

"Chocolate is the second way I want to die." Anna turned to face him, "You're the first."

John grinned at her, "And that was just round two."


	3. Dark Places

Urgent knocking at his door roused John. He blinked, trying to get his bearings and smiled when he saw Anna tucked between him and the wall, her head on his chest with her arm draped over his waist. She whined when he shifted and tucked herself back in the covers, turning to the wall.

John grabbed his dressing gown and thrust his arms through the sleeves before sliding the door open enough to see out but not allow anyone to see Anna still sleeping. Sneaking one last glance at her naked back he turned to see the conductor standing in the corridor. "Yes?"

"Mr. Bates?"

"Yes."

"They say you are a police man in London. A detective."

"I work for the Yard," John eased out of the room, "What's this about?"

"A man in one of the first class compartments has died sir. We need your help."

"My help?" John frowned, "Why do you need my help? I'm not a doctor."

"But you are an investigator."

"Why would you need one of those?"

"We're afraid he may've been murdered, sir."

"I see." John sucked the inside of his cheek, "Give me a few minutes to dress and I'll be out to help."

"Thank you sir."

John slid the door closed and Anna grunted from the bed, turning to blink at him, "What's going on?"

John knelt next to the bed, kissing her hand, "Nothing to worry you about. They just need my help."

"Help, with what?"

"They think a man was murdered."

"What?" Anna sat up in bed, ignoring that John could not tear his gaze away from her naked body. "Who's murdered?"

"I don't know." John kissed her cheek, "I'll get dressed and be back shortly."

"No," Anna threw the covers off, "I'm not waiting here."

"Anna-" John tried to say something but she was already through to her cabin, tearing into her suitcase for clothes. "They asked for me."

"And you couldn't use my help?" Anna leaned on the doorway, "I do have experience with murder you know."

"Reporting on them."

"Doesn't mean I can't render some much needed perspective." She paused in the opening, "Unless you don't want my assistance."

"I wouldn't say no to it." John shrugged, "The more the merrier I guess."

"Perfect." She slid the door on his side of the water closet closed and John heard her moving about the space.

He dressed quickly, smiling to himself when he saw the remains of their dessert still on the table. Knocking on the door to the water closet he waited for her to slide it back, finishing placing the final pin in her damp hair. John stepped into the space and hurried to run a comb through his hair. A hand to his face prickled his skin and he sighed.

"Not enough time to shave."

"I think you could wait until you actually have a beard." Anna slipped back into her cabin, pulling at her skirt before sliding her arms into a jacket. "I'd like to see that."

"It's be a nuisance."

Anna put her hand on the side of his face, "Let me decide would or wouldn't be a nuisance in that regard."

"Are we at that stage?"

"After last night I'm not sure I'd want to be anywhere else." Anna opened the door to her cabin, slipping her key into her pocket, "Shall we?"

John snagged his jacket and left through his door. The conductor stood at attention when John approached but gaped at Anna. Pointing at her he shook his head, "This is not for a woman to see."

"Ms. Smith is a crime reporter. She's been exposed to this kind of thing before and since I'm without other investigators, I could use her perspective on this."

"The more people who know the more likely the German police in the other car'll be informed about this."

"We'll be discreet." John assured the man, who could only dry wash his hands in response.

"Alright." The conductor sighed, nodding and waving with his hand for them to follow him. They walked through the dining car, attracting the attention of those taking breakfast there, and John though he heard someone say his name. Turning for a moment John saw Lord Grantham sitting with his wife and mother at a table but Anna nudged him forward again.

The first-class corridor was quiet as the conductor pulled the door back on one of the middle cabins. John sighed when he peeked in and Anna gasped. The body before them was the man who tried to gain John's help the night before.

"We found Mr. Green this morning."

"Who found him?" John used his sleeve covered arm to hold the door in place until it clicked, stepping carefully into the cabin but raising a hand to stop Anna. "If I'm the only one in here we don't risk contamination of the scene."

She nodded and tapped the conductor on the shoulder, "To repeat Mr. Bates's question, who found him?"

"The valet and the waiter, delivering breakfast at seven like he asked."

"You think he was killed in the middle of the night?" John went to stand as the train shook. He grabbed for the wall as Anna stopped the door crushing her. Both turned to the conductor and he gaped.

"What was that?" John pressed forward, joining Anna in the hall as the conductor shrugged.

"I've no idea. I need to go see what's wrong."

Anna peeked out the window in the hall, "Why are we stopping?"

"Engine trouble?" John craned his head to see out the window, "I can't see the coal car or the engine car so I've only guesses. But regardless of the problem with the train we've a bigger one here."

"Other than the dead man in the compartment?" Anna pointed to it and John nodded.

"Bigger than that."

"What?"

"The German police on the train."

"What about them?"

John shook his head, "If we stop anywhere for long then the authorities will have to be contacted and they'll have to submit to investigation by the police on the train."

"Is that bad?"

John nodded, "We're in Germany. They're in a… complex governmental situation at the moment. If there's a murderer on this train then, whoever they are, isn't guaranteed to receive due process."

"Should they?"

"Everyone's entitled to it."

"Bates?"

John hurried to close to the door to Green's cabin as an older man entered the corridor. He smiled, going toward John and grabbing his hand into an enthusiastic shake, "It is you. I was just telling Cora that it was you but she thought I'd imagined it since John Bates never leaves London."

"I usually don't but this was for business so I made an exception." John smiled and held a hand toward Anna, "I believe you know Ms. Smith."

"Of course, Anna's an old friend of the family." Lord Grantham shook Anna's hand, "How are you?"

"Very well, thank you." She pointed back toward the dining car, "And how's your family holiday?"

"Better than Scotland last year." Lord Grantham paused, "What are you two doing in the first class cabins?"

"Little discussion with the conductor about a luggage mix up." Anna filled in as John struggled to justify their position. "Someone thought we had their bag and we had to sort it out down to the buttons on Mr. Bates's suit here."

"I see. Nasty business that." Lord Grantham cleared his throat, "Would you two join us for breakfast? If you haven't eaten, that is."

Anna snuck a look to John and he gave a single nod before she turned back to Lord Grantham, smiling, "We'd be honored."

Lord Grantham clapped his hands together, "Excellent."

He led them back through the dining car as Anna leaned toward John to whisper, "What do we do with a dead body in the middle sleeper compartment of the first-class corridor?"

"We hope no one notices."

"I admit, I'm not a pathologist or a coroner but I'm sure that once one has died they do tend to give off a rather unpleasant odor. Going off and all that as a result of the decomposition process."

"If we can have them turn off the heat to his room and perhaps the two on either side it could be cold enough to preserve the body Dropping the window might help a great deal as well. At least until we get to London."

"London?" Both John and Anna looked up when an older woman stood to kiss Anna on the cheeks. "It's going to be dreadful this time of year."

"It's dreadful most times of the year Lady Grantham," John bowed his head to her, accepting the shake of her hand, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"I do hope whatever stories you shared with Robert in the war aren't all you know about me." Lady Grantham blushed, "I wasn't my best then."

"I assume you're always lovely but no, they weren't the only stories I heard." John shook his head, gesturing to Anna as he pulled out her chair for her to sit, "Ms. Smith was gracious enough to be my dinner companion last night and informed me about your kind-hearted nature in caring for her while she was at school."

"Oh?" Lady Grantham smiled, "Anna always says the loveliest things about us to everyone."

"How could I not when there are so many lovely things to say?" Anna adjusted a napkin on her lap but reached for no food. "Mr. Bates and I had a lovely conversation talking about the good qualities of the Crawley family last night."

"Then you've only just met?" Lady Grantham made a surprised sound, "I must be honest, we thought you two were together."

"Together?" Anna adjusted in her seat, thanking the waiter for the cup of tea he placed in her hands.

"As in a couple." Lord Grantham winked at John, "He'd be a lucky man to find someone like you Anna."

"I am," John covered Anna's hand when she went to say something, "And she's been nothing but helpful to me as I presented in Vienna for a conference. Her insights were very valuable."

"Really?" Lady Grantham turned to Anna, "You didn't tell us you were presenting in Vienna. How exciting. They must really be using your skills at the paper now."

Anna snuck a look at John before facing Lady Grantham, "I feel they could notice more but one step at a time I think."

"Here, here," All heads turned to the oldest woman at the table, "Progress should be measured and careful. None of this exceeding fervor that sends people into senseless tizzies."

"Tizzies can inspire people," The woman at her side sipped at her glass.

"People could stand to be less inspired."

"Now Mama I think you're being a little too harsh and Cousin Isobel has a point." Lord Grantham shifted in his seat, "Occasionally people need to be riled up about something."

"Nothing deserves that kind of fervor."

John coughed and thought about saying something when the conductor entered the car. He pulled his hat from his head and John noticed the nervousness to his motions. The poor man twitched slightly, running a hand over his balding crown, and squeaked a bit as he began to speak.

"I'm sorry to inform you, ladies and gentlemen, that the train's hit a rather bad snow drift. It's covering the tracks and we can't risk pushing through it or we might be buried and damage the train."

"Snow drift?" The Dowager Countess huffed, "It seems the world's now all the more exciting and boring."

"How long until the tracks clear?" John turned to see Gillingham standing from his seat, Blake dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. "I've got appointments to keep in Paris day after tomorrow."

"I don't know sir. We've contacted the next station and they should be sending a team to clear it but we're not sure about the situation of the tracks they'll have to move over to get to us."

"So it's all settle in and wait for them to have at it?" Blake dropped the napkin on his plate and turned to the tall man next to him, "How'd you like that?"

"Not sure I much mind." The man pulled out a book, "Gives me an excuse to finally finish a book."

"See there, positivity." The blonde man John remembered Anna pointing out at the station as being Matthew Crawley spoke up, "We just wait patiently and let the men who know what they're doing sort it all out."

"We're stuck on a train in the snow Matthew." Lady Mary sighed, "There's nothing to do but wait it out."

"We're not in any danger and we've got food enough to keep everyone warm, fed, and hopefully content… if not happy." The conductor dipped his head and vanished from the compartment.

John shot a glance at Anna then stood up from the table, "I do hope you'll excuse me but I need to sort out something in my compartment."

"But you only sat down." Lord Grantham complained, "I'm sure there's no hurry now that we're delayed."

"It's just the soldier in me." John shook his hand, "But if you're free for lunch I'd be honored to share a table."

"And me." Anna stood as well, "I think we could all spend a little time getting to know one another here."

"That'd be lovely." Lady Grantham gestured around the carriage. "We could all get a big table and have everyone introduce themselves. If we're all to be in these cramped quarters for who knows how long shouldn't we at least be friends?"

"We'd be better as allies." The Dowager Countess adjusted her hold on her cane, "That's a great deal more effective."

"Not sure we're fighting any battles on a train carriage trapped in the snow." Cousin Isobel interjected, "But I wouldn't mind something to take my mind off it."

"I doubt any of us could handle you're mind being on it. We might not survive the battle."

John tried not to laugh at the Countess's last comment, "I'll see you at noon then, Lord Grantham?"

"We'll have it all sorted."

John and Anna escaped the dining car back toward their compartments and John ushered Anna into his. Closing the door he turned to her, "This presents a bit of a problem."

"I'll say. We've a dead body on a train trapped in the snow with a group of people more concerned with the potentiality of missing meetings than the fact a man is dead in one of the compartments."

"Because they don't know about it and we need to keep it that way for as long as possible."

"Why? Because they'd react poorly to hearing there's potentially a killer on this train?"

"No, because they'd react badly to me assuming that one of them might be the killer on this train."

Anna gaped, "You think one of them did it?"

"Unless the killer flew here on wings and then escaped the same way I'd say they'd have to still be here."

"Our train's unexpected stop could've provided an escape."

"And he's running away in the snow? I doubt it."

"People've done stupider things."

John conceded the point, "Perhaps but that's not even our biggest problem."

"The possibility that our killer escaped or the risk that they're still on the train aren't our biggest problems?"

"No." John checked the window, "We've got the Germans to worry about."

"If they can get through the snow."

"I'm talking about the ones already on this train." John ran a hand through his hair, "If we do anything too suspicious or furtive then it might put them on our scent. Technically speaking it's the conductor's obligation to inform them of the situation."

"Why didn't he?"

"Because he doesn't trust their police anymore than I do." John chewed on his teeth a moment, "They might even find out if they decide they want to check all passports and boarding passes while they wait to stave off boredom."

"Not convenient for our dead friend with almost a dozen extra holes in his torso."

"Nor for us if we want to catch the right killer instead of a convenient one."

Anna took a deep breath, "Then we get to the bottom of it."

"That's the idea."

"We'd better get started." Anna sat down at the table. "What's first?"

"First, we need to know who we're traveling with." John heard a sound, "Make that second. First, we need to move that body."


	4. Angels and Demons

John and Anna slipped through the emptying dining car and caught the conductor. He paled, looking absolutely beside himself. "I'm sorry. The Germans want to check tickets and passports. I've got time to help you or explain better than I already have that the train is caught in a snow bank."

"That's not-" John waved his hand at the man, "That's not important to us and we expected as much. But we need your help to stall them."

"How?"

"Get them tea or something and then seem to bungle the tickets." Anna suggested, "But what we need, before they get on this train, "Is a camera."

"What for?"

"We need to get photographs of what the room looks like before we move Mr. Green's body." Anna peeked over her shoulder at those chattering as they left the dining car. "Does anyone have a camera and developing kit?"

"I believe Mr. Talbot brought one. He's in the second-class sleeper. I remember because one of the porters almost dropped it."

"We need it." John insisted, "And we need everyone in their cabins to give us a clear path from Mr. Green's sleeping berth to the kitchen car."

"Kitchen car?"

Anna smiled, pointing her finger at John. "You want to use the freezer to preserve the body."

"It's the best way and the Germans aren't going to look in the freezer." John looked back at the conductor. "Could you get us that clear path?"

"I can manage that. The German police'll want everyone where they can question them easily and check the passports with the tickets anyway."

"Perfect." John clapped him on the shoulder, "What would we do without you Mister… I'm sorry I don't know your name."

"Moseley."

"Mr. Moseley we're indebted to you." Anna took his hand, "Now, we need the camera and a clear path."

"I'm on it." Mr. Moseley hopped to it, leaving them in the first-class corridor.

John and Anna slipped into Green's cabin, looking over the scene and studying the body a moment before John craned his head back out of the cabin. "It's quite a distance but we could manage it."

"We?"

"I thought-"

"You've got to move the body Mr. Bates while I photograph the scene." Anna shook her head, "We've got no time as it is. If we're both dragging the body then we'll lose the scene to the Germans when they come by."

"What do we tell them about Mr. Green's disappearance?"

"If Mr. Moseley's smart he won't hand over that passport or the ticket related to it." John crouched down on his toes, supporting his chin on his fingers. "Not a good way to die."

"Stabbed to death?" Anna nodded, "I quite agree. I'd rather be shot."

"Either is a gruesome prospect for an end." John slowly scanned the room from his perch before standing again. "I'd rather die in my bed at the age of eighty or something old enough that my teeth fall out before I close my eyes for the final time."

"Quick death is better than a slow one." Anna turned when the door opened and took the camera from Mr. Moseley. "Thank you Mr. Moseley."

"It's not a problem." He nodded to them, "But, about this berth-"

"We need you to temporarily lose Mr. Green's ticket and." John warned, stepping out of the way as Anna extracted the camera from the bag, snapping pictures of the scene as efficiently as she could. "We need them suspicious of him for different reasons."

"But they'll ask about the berth. What do I tell them? He's not feeling well so he's having meals brought to him?"

"No, you tell them you haven't seen him since this morning."

"What about the valet and the waiter? They both know he's dead."

"Tell them it's being investigated but to say nothing to the German police."

"Why not?"

John shuffled, "I don't know how much your valet and waiter know about the political situation here in Germany at the moment but we don't want them as suspects in the investigation the Germans'll launch if they think anything's amiss here."

"So I just tell Alfred and William to keep quiet?"

"The Germans are just checking passports and tickets for now. They don't know anything's happened and," John turned to Anna, adjusting her angle to take more pictures of the cabin, "If we're successful then they'll never know. They'll just think he jumped from the train when it stopped and ran for it."

Mr. Moseley nodded. "Alright. The dining car's almost empty and the path to the kitchen'll be clear since the Germans'll start at the front."

"Thank you Mr. Moseley." Anna called, taking John's hand to step back out of the cabin. "I think I've got it all."

"Everything you'll need?"

"Enough to know that he didn't kill himself."

"Then here's the plan." John ran a hand through his hair. "I'll take the body and hide it in the freezer. You make it look like he packed up and ran for it after the station stop."

"And tell the Germans what?"

"If they ask then we say he asked me for protection, which is true, and they'll draw their own conclusions after that." John snatched a sheet off the bed, wrapping I over himself before lifting Green over his shoulders. "Ready?"

"Wait." Anna stood in the doorway, "It's clear."

They maneuvered through the car, trying to walk as quickly and quietly as possible. John slipped, grabbing at Green's arm to keep him on his back and Anna hissed at him.

"Careful."

"I know." John huffed, "He's heavier than he looks and I've never had to carry someone this far on no adrenaline."

"You carried a body before?"

"He was alive then." John walked forward, the two of them hurrying through the dining car. "It was Lord Grantham."

"You carried him?"

"Across No-Man's-Land. I'd rather not again."

"Stop!" Anna pushed John to the side and the two of them ducked behind the bar, holding Green's body between them.

Footsteps sounded through the dining car with voices speaking quickly in German while one nervous voice managed a broken version of the language. John and Anna looked at one another, eyes matching each other in wideness, as the feet stopped in front of the bar. Both held their breath when a hand reached over the top of the bar to grasp a bottle over their heads.

But once the bottle left the voices soon faded and both sighed with relief. Anna crouched first, walking along the bar to check before waving John after her. He grabbed Green's body, getting it over his back again, and crawled after her.

They managed the distance to the kitchen and Anna checked all the freezers in order until she pointed to one in the middle. "This one's clear."

John slipped a bit on the ice inside, sliding toward a wall but dropping Green's body on the floor of the freezer. He arranged the body and removed the sheet from his back to toss over the body before stepping back to close the door. They searched the kitchen until John removed his handcuffs from his pocket and cuffed the door shut.

"His body's going to get freezer burn." Anna noted, head jerking toward the freezer. "It won't look pretty."

"He wasn't that pretty to start with." John sighed, leaning on the closed door as Anna took a deep breath beside him. "Have you ever moved a body Ms. Smith?"

"It's usually my job just to report on the nature of the bodies. You?"

"It's my job to arrest those who do what we just did." John wiped at his forehead, "I never thought I'd subvert justice."

"Given the justification we've given ourselves for what we just did I'd say we're actually enabling justice." Anna snickered, pointing at the handcuffs. "Shame you had to use them like that."

"Why's that?"

"I would've liked to employ them in a slightly different profession."

John grinned at her, "Don't tease Ms. Smith."

"Who said I was teasing?" She straightened, "We need to get back to that cabin before they do."

They snuck back through the kitchen and dining car, entering Green's cabin again. With nods to one another John opened his cases, Anna throwing the most valuable things inside. John ruffled the bed, ripping off any of the blood-marked blankets, and checked over the rest of the compartment.

"Anything else incriminating?"

"The blood was restricted to the bed."

John paused, "What man lets himself be stabbed?"

Anna shrugged, bending down to pick up a fallen cup. As it passed her nose she stopped, sniffed it, and handed it over to John. "He was drugged, Mr. Bates. He might not've even been conscious."

John sniffed the interior before nodding his agreement. "Barbital."

"You know what that smells like?"

"I also know what opium, cocaine, and some other pharmaceutical products smell like." He tucked the cup upside down on the saucer, "Nature of my business."

"I guess some things you only know about it if you're in it." Anna finished, stepping back, "Convincing?"

"I've seen people leave places in this state when they ran for it." John grabbed the bags, peeking out the cabin door. "We're clear."

They hurried back to their compartments, John stashing the cases in their shared water closet, and sitting back at the small table in his room. Anna joined him a moment later. John raised an eyebrow and she shrugged a shoulder.

"Don't feel like waiting alone."

"After what we just did I imagine your conscience is a little rattled."

"It's not all in one piece, that's for certain."

John went to respond when the compartment door opened and Mr. Moseley stood there with two policemen flanking him. "Hello gentlemen. Can we help you?"

"Yes, you can." The first stepped forward, his accented English giving his voice a harsh lilt. "We are here to check your ticket and passport."

"Oh," John dug in his pockets to produce the two forms of documentation. "Is something wrong?"

"Routine check sir." The policeman looked over the information before handing them back to John. "Though we're curious if you know anything about a missing passenger."

"I only know a few people on this train." John pointed to Anna, "I met Ms. Smith yesterday when e left Vienna and I've met a few of the other passengers in the course of business."

"Do you know a Mr. Green?"

"Who?"

The German pulled out a list, tapping a name. "Alex Green, British citizen."

"Can't say I know anyone by that name."

"Did he not eat dinner with you?"

"Mr. Bates and I were interrupted in our dinner by a rude man, if that's the one you're talking about." Anna interjected, "He didn't really give us a name. Just demands."

"Then you don't know where he is?"

"I haven't seen him since dinner."

The German nodded, writing something on a notepad. "Then you wouldn't know where he is this morning?"

"No."

The German raised an eyebrow, "If it were you?"

John paused, as if thinking, "Maybe he ran for it."

"Excuse me?"

"Maybe he got off the train and made a run for it."

"Why would Mr. Green run?"

"From the essence of the conversation I had with him last night, he wasn't a good man. Given that the train stopping would result in this kind of inquiry he might've thought it was to his advantage to make a run for it."

"What, in his conversation, would give you that opinion?"

"He spoke about someone being after him." Anna came forward a bit, "If the train's stopped then he'd have nowhere to hide from his perceived attacker."

"And you believe he'd run after that?"

"Fear makes people stupid, sir." Anna kept her face straight and John wanted nothing more than to congratulate her.

The German made another note, "It's listed on your passport that you're an investigator in your British police force, Mr. Bates."

"I am."

"The, presumably, this man sought your aid because of your reputation."

"That seemed to be the case."

"What did you say to his request?"

John shook his head, "I refused his offer."

"You refused to give him your aid?"

"It's not my place to defend or protect those who do evil."

"And you decide who those people are?"

"It's my job to find those people, to know who they are." John sighed, "If Mr. Green's running from something then he wouldn't let a stopped train keep him hostage."

"Do you have anything to add Miss?"

Anna shook her head, "I've got nothing more to say."

"Thank you both." The German closed his notebook and nodded to his partner. "Enjoy the remainder of your trip."

"I'm sure we will." John waited for the door to close and the sound of their footsteps to move down the corridor before he sighed. "Think they bought it?"

"I almost did." Anna took a seat, "But now we've got another problem."

"What's that?"

She held up the camera, "The only evidence we have is here."

"Ms. Smith," John chided her, "Don't tell me you've never made your own dark room before."

Anna raised an eyebrow.


	5. The Lovely Bones

John hung the next picture, shaking out his hands to dry them. "I forgot how messy this business is."

"I don't take any of my own photographs for my articles." Anna dipped another paper in the water. "I wonder how our Mr. Talbot will take us developing his photographs and using his equipment without permission."

"I'm sure we can apologize when we explain we're trying to find a killer." John hung the last picture, wiping his hands on a cloth before bumping into Anna in the small space. "Perhaps next time we can use this space to our advantage instead of our disadvantage."

"I'll take you up on that offer now if you want."

John grinned at her, his eyes darting to the side before he stopped, "Though it'll have to wait."

"What do you see?"

He pulled down one of the photographs and then turned to its neighbor. In total he tugged six from the drying pins and passed them to Anna. "What do you see, when you look at those?"

She squinted in the dim red light before shaking her head. "Nothing I could swear to in this light. We'll have to wait for the others to finis before I can be sure."

"Best guess?"

"These were already on the roll." Anna narrowed her eyes, holding one of the photographs close to her eyes. "They look like some kind of military installation."

"Have you ever been?"

"I covered a story at one once. Two soldiers got in a brawl and one killed the other. He eventually came forward, guilt and all that, but I wrote the story."

"Can you read the writing?"

"I recognize German but I don't read it. Not well, anyway." Anna handed them back, "What would it matter if Mr. Talbot's got photographs of a German military installation? We did just come from Vienna."

"But Germany shouldn't have something that looks like this. It's against the Treaty of Versailles."

Anna's mouth formed and 'O', "Are you saying Germany's planning something?"

"I'd say the rise of Herr Hitler in Germany's got everyone a bit concerned and this," John tapped the edge of the photograph, "Says why."

"But what would that mean about Mr. Talbot?"

"I don't know." John examined the other photographs, pulling down the developed ones. "But we need to return his things to him anyway so we could ask him."

"We're not officially investigating this." Anna put a hand on John's arm, ready to pull the door to the small water closet open. "If we tell him how we got these photographs and what we're doing he could give away the whole game."

"With these photographs in our possession we hold the advantage." John waited a minute more before slipping through the crack in the door, beckoning Anna to follow him. "And if my suspicions about Mr. Talbot are correct then he might be able to help us."

"If I were him I'd stay well away from us." Anna handed John the equipment for them to pack back into the camera bag. "Deny everything and all that."

John smiled at her, shaking a finger, "You know what I'm thinking."

"I work in newspapers and I've read a few pulpy novels, Mr. Bates." She chided, "A lone man on a train, reading a book in a foreign language with a set of photographs of a German military installation doesn't even use a percentage of my brain power to understand."

"So says she who extrapolates from incomplete data."

"We could still be wrong you know." Anna closed the case, pushing it over the table toward John. "You do know that yes?"

"And we'll apologize and never see him again." John shouldered the bag but waved the photographs back to Anna, "Keep them close. We don't want just anyone seeing those."

"You mean like we did?"

"We're not just anyone, are we?" John slid the door to his cabin berth back and allowed Anna out first.

They traveled down a few berths and John rapped his knuckles against the door. A moment later the door slid back and the tall, lanky man answered. "I'm sorry, I thought you were the conductor or one of the servers."

"It's perfectly alright." John worked the bag off his shoulder, "This was given to me by mistake and I believe it's yours."

"Thank you." Talbot took it back, handling it a moment before frowning. "Did you use it?"

"Yes, we did." Anna passed the photographs, the white side on top. "We found something of yours and I believe you might want these back."

Talbot left his mouth partly open, leaving the photographs between them a moment before taking them quickly. "It would seem you have me at a disadvantage."

"We don't mean to threaten you or put you in a difficult position, Mr. Talbot, since we already used your camera without permission." John gestured with his hand inside the berth, "Could we continue this conversation inside?"

"That would be best." Talbot stepped back, allowing them inside, and then shut the door. He placed the photographs face down on the small table in the corner and leaned on the edge while motioning them to sit on the bed. "Why were you in need of my camera?"

John turned to Anna and she started speaking, "Our answer is with another question. Did the German police on this train question you as well about the disappearance of a man named Mr. Green?"

"There was a moment when they pressed me about it, yes." Talbot frowned, "Why does that answer my question?"

"Because Mr. Green is lying dead in a freezer in the kitchen car." John pointed to the camera Talbot held in his lap. "We needed the camera to take photographs of his berth before we made it look as if he escaped the train in the snow."

"Why?"

"Because someone murdered him sometime in the night and we're trying to find out who took his life without the Germans finding out as well."

"I'm sure we all know that you wouldn't want the Germans to look any closer into your activities than we want them looking into the disappearance of Mr. Green." John sighed, "So we used your camera and we're returning the photographs that wouldn't help you if the Germans got them."

"That's why I didn't develop them." Talbot tapped the case, "It's easier to destroy film than the photographs themselves."

"We're sorry about that." Anna held up a hand, "It wasn't our intention to expose your secret… whatever that is."

"You're both relatively intelligent so I'm sure you've made some suppositions for yourselves."

"Nothing we'd ever tell anyone." Anna confirmed, "Whatever secrets you keep are your own, Mr. Talbot."

"If it salves any kind of conscience I'm acting in the interests of England." Talbot placed the bag on the table behind him, "I work for Naval Intelligence and they posted me to Germany to see what Herr Hitler might have in mind for England."

"And you took the long way round getting back?" John snorted, "That doesn't seem sensible."

"That's British intelligence for you."

Anna raised a hand, "In your particular employment have you come across many dead bodies?"

"More than I probably should."

"Then, would you help us?"

Talbot raised an eyebrow, "How so?"

"The body's in the freezer but we need someone who might have another opinion that we don't about the how of his death." John pointed between himself and Anna. "We're investigators in our own right but we're not usually the ones searching the body for clues."

"You've already got the pictures." Talbot shrugged, "What do you need from the body?"

"To find out who killed him." John stood, "Do you want to come?"

"And see a dead body?" Talbot laughed, "Why not? We're stuck in a snow bank and I'm bored."

"We'll have to move quietly then."

"Then you're lucky this is what I do for a living." Talbot grabbed the door, pushing it back. "Shall we?"

The three of them worked as quickly and silently as they could to the kitchen car and John unlocked the freezer door to show Talbot the body. Grabbing the sheet John ripped it off the body, leaving the body of Mr. Green open to their view. Talbot blew out, rubbing his hands together and blowing into them before crouching down next to the body.

"Well, whoever killed him hated this man."

"How can you tell?" Anna rubbed her arms, "What makes you so sure?"

"The depths of the wounds." Talbot pointed to them. "These took a degree of strength to them."

"I'm more bothered by the number." John pointed to them, "I counted ten."

"So do I." Talbot agreed, blowing into his cupped hands again. "Can you tell the direction of the blows?"

"Two of them are from the left and the others are from the right." Anna shrugged when both men turned to her. "I write quite a lot. I know the direction of right or left."

"So we've got an ambidextrous killer?" Talbot snorted, "How fascinating."

"Or we've got more than one." John shivered, "We need a medical examiner to truly confirm any of our suppositions."

"We don't have one since we're all we have." Talbot clicked his tongue against his teeth. "I'll trust your lovely lady friend's suppositions."

"My name is Anna and he's John." Anna came to Talbot's side. "And I've sat in on a number of autopsies so I can give you a general idea of what we might be looking for."

"You do?" Talbot turned to her, "I'm impressed."

"In a general sense, yes." Anna shuddered, "But our biggest worry now is freezing to death before we have anything to show for it."

"Our biggest worry is that we've not got one but two or more killers on this train who could be anyone."

Talbot stood, taking the sheet from John to cover the body again before they all exited the freezer. "This was the end of my expertise because I don't do anything when it comes to questioning people."

"We can't question everyone on this train." John laughed, running his hand through his hair, "We can't question anyone at all."

"That's if we believe that the killer or killers is even still on the train." Anna sighed, "Our only other option is to stare at everyone until they cave to the pressure."

"I thought you told everyone that Mr. Green ran for it."

"We told the Germans police but we don't even know if anyone else even knew he was on the train, much less cared enough to kill him." John stopped, shaking his finger between Anna and Talbot. "Dinner service stops at eleven. They came to give him breakfast at seven."

"What's your point?" Talbot frowned, "I'm not sure I understand."

"I do." Anna interjected, "Six hours time. It's enough for anyone to make their way from one end of the train to the other and back, multiple times."

"But no one could go from class to class without alerting one of the porters." John tapped the freezer, "Whoever did this came from second class or above."

"The doors to the dining car are locked from midnight to five so that's only one hour on the front end and two on the back of your timeline for our killers." Talbot shrugged when they looked at him, "I'm trained to know exactly how to get in and out of someplace in a hurry."

Anna nodded, turning her head toward the dining car where the crowd of voices sounded in a muffled lump. "What we're saying is that someone or someones in that car murdered this man."

John put his hands on his hips, "Yes."

Talbot pointed to the two of them, "Why not you two?"

John opened his mouth, giving a nervous chuckle. "We were otherwise occupied until very early in the morning."

"Occupied?"

"We were having sex, Mr. Talbot." Anna smiled at him, "And I enjoyed it very much."

"That would explain the sounds I heard in my berth." Talbot grinned at them, "Nothing like the rocking of a train eh?"

"Point is," John cut in, "Someone in that car, or multiple someones, stabbed this man to death in his berth and no one noticed."

"It's first class. They don't have the time to notice."

"Don't like the ruling class, Mr. Talbot?" Anna joked and Talbot snorted.

"My father was in Parliament and I was into racing cars. I'm not a high-class person. I don't fit in that world."

"You'd be surprised how well you'd fit." Anna shook her head, "But someone should've heard that man cry out for help when he was attacked."

"Remember, someone drugged him. No one would've heard him."

"Especially if anyone was as loud as the two of you… or as busy." Talbot laughed, "Though no one on this train could've been that busy."

Anna shared Talbot's salacious grin, "You're incorrigible, Mr. Talbot."

"It's part and parcel of my job, Anna."

"I won't begrudge anyone else their salacious thoughts or actions but," John snapped his fingers to bring their attentions back. "We've got someone with murderous thoughts and that worries me more."

"Alright John," Talbot opened his hands, "What do we do now?"


	6. Sharp Objects

John relocked the freezer, "What we do now is not alarm anyone. We can't trigger someone's fear when we're all trapped here for the foreseeable future."

"No scaring the locals then?"

John frowned at Talbot's suggestion, "No."

"Too bad. I have fun getting people a little riled up."

Anna narrowed her eyes, as if working an idea through her brain, "That might not be the worst idea."

"What?" John and Talbot turned to her, looking at each other when they realized they spoke in unison.

"Not spooking anyone but getting information from them. It's Mr. Talbot's stock and trade… if that's even your name."

"It is for now."

"I'd rather call you Ozymandias."

"Why?"

Anna smiled, "Because all that'll be left of who you are at this moment will be the shadows you'll leave on our lives."

"Those are the best impressions, Anna." Talbot nodded toward the dining car, "Shall we mingle with the others? Don't want to attract attention. First rule of trade craft, be invisible by always being around."

"Wait a moment," John held up a hand to stop them and pointed toward the dining car, "If we rile them, even for a moment, they're bound to get suspicious."

"Let them be suspicious. It never hurt anyone to get a little hot under the collar." Talbot grinned at Anna, "Got you something didn't it."

"But it might hurt someone if they start a witch hunt and then string someone up." John held his hands open, "I'm not saying we don't look for clues in what they say or how they act but I don't think there's much wisdom in exciting a crowd of educated, upper-class patrons with boredom and nothing to do but let their minds run the gambit of possible scenarios in a murder."

"They don't even know Green's dead."

"Hopefully most of them don't know Green at all." Anna and John turned to Talbot and he explained. "It'd eliminate possible killers if we knew that they weren't even aware of his existence. Few people kill those they don't know."

"That's not an entirely comforting." Anna shook her head.

"It's a fact." John ran a hand through his hair, "Unfortunate though it is, most people take the time to kill those they know. Usually for personal reasons."

"Then we're suggesting that there's someone on this train that knows Mr. Green." Anna clicked her teeth together, "This gets no better the longer we spiral down this particular rabbit hole."

"It never gets better." John took a deep breath, "What's your suggestion?"

Talbot opened his hand to John, "You the investigator."

"And in any other circumstance I could corner people with what we have and investigate them one at a time with intense questioning but we're trapped on a train caught in a snow drift, we're pretty far from my normal stomping grounds."

"We're in mine?" Talbot smirked, "I guess the phrase is to 'follow my lead'?"

"What's the first thing we do then?"

"Based on the conversation I observed this morning, between the two of you and the noble Crawleys I'll guess you've got an invitation to lunch you should use to your advantage."

"And you?"

"I shared a breakfast table with Mr. Blake and Mr. Gillingham and I think I should use that to my advantage." Talbot pointed to the dining car. "I'm a little peckish for lunch. Anyone else?"

"I think I could manage it." Anna turned to John, "Do you think you could stomach a few sandwiches for lunch John?"

"I might choke something down." John nodded at Talbot, "You're first."

"That would be wise since we'd attract too much attention because we're not supposed to know one another." Talbot snapped a ridiculous salute, "See you both on the flip side of lunch were we could compare notes?"

"What a plan Mr. Talbot." Anna held John's arm to hold him back as Talbot went into the dining car. "You do realize that we're going to be questioning people we consider friends?"

"The thought did cross my mine but think of it more as eliminating them as suspects." He went to walk away but Anna tugged on his sleeve again.

"I'm sure you've already got a plan for it we can't eliminate them?"

John let out a breath, "We're got to proceed as if everyone's innocent. We'll drive ourselves mad otherwise."

Anna nodded, "You're right. I'm just being stupid."

"No," John shook his head, covering her hands with his. "You're using good instincts and taking thoughts to their logical conclusion. That's good."

"Is it?" Anna huffed through her nose, "I'm trying not think that the people in that car, people I've known for ages, could find it in them to murder someone in cold blood."

"Because you're a caring person and it's not a detriment to think that way." John rolled his shoulders back, "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I can be, given the circumstances."

They entered the dining car and, instead of multiple tables, they found themselves at the end of a long table of interstacking round ones. John frowned, eyes darting to Talbot a moment but the man continued his conversation with Mrs. Crawley. Just as John was about to whisper something to Anna he heard Lord Grantham's voice call over the steady din.

"Bates, come over here. We've saved everyone a seat."

"It's quite the arrangement you worked up here sir."

"Oh, no more 'sir'. We're not in the Army anymore Bates." Lord Grantham shifted to the side, offering John the seat near him while his family lined the table on the other side. "And we arranged it against the flustered arguments of the conductor because we want to try and get to know everyone on the train."

"You mean in the front two carriages." Anna smiled as she spread her napkin over her lap. "I doubt we'd fit third class in here and I don't think the cook would like it."

"I'm sure they'll work something out for those in third class."

"There's no one in third class." Lady Mary Crawley's voice interrupted them as she eased herself into a seat across from Anna, Matthew Crawley at her side. "They disconnected those cars during the night at another station. We're the only occupants here."

"I guess there's a touch of fate in that." Talbot spoke up and all eyes turned to him. "Think about it, if we'd had to share with a train full of people we'd be hard pressed to learn all the names before we got out of this snow bank and then someone'd feel horribly put out at being forgotten."

"You've given this a great deal of thought." Lady Mary raised an eyebrow at him, "Are you so worried about losing your identity, sir, that you're in desperate need to share it with us?"

"Not as desperate as all that but if I'm eating at the same table as someone I do make a point of knowing who's sharing the table with me." He opened his hand to Mrs. Crawley, sitting on Matthew's other side. "Like the lovely introduction I made with Mrs. Crawley here. If I didn't know her name it'd be rather awkward when we disembarked at the platform now wouldn't it?"

"I think Shakespeare said it correctly when he 'desired we be better strangers'." Lady Mary shook her head, "I've no need to know my neighbor anymore in a snowstorm than I did when we took the risk of three days in one another's company."

"How very unromantic of you." Talbot smiled at her, "I can't imagine you meet many people that way."

"I meet the people I need to meet and they're all I care to." Lady Mary leaned her head around her mother toward the Dowager Countess. "Don't you agree, Grandmamma?"

"I rather think an event like this should be celebrate, not spent brooding in one's berth." She sniffed, "Like that odious man from last night."

"What man?" John bit back his desire to ask the same question as Blake, sitting on Talbot's left, spoke. "I thought we were all here."

"Oh no," The Dowager clutched at the head of her cane, fingers flexing on it as if readjusting her grip. Whether she wanted to swing it indiscriminately or stand with it as her leverage John could not tell. "We're missing one of our number."

"Perhaps we should ask the conductor to invite him to join us." John followed the invitation from the other end of the table, the second daughter in the Crawley family. "We've space for one more here next to me."

"I'm sure he'd reject any seat that put him too close to you." Lady Mary huffed and craned her neck toward the kitchen car. "I just want to know when lunch will actually be served."

"I guess conversation in the meantime would be a little difficult in your condition." Blake smiled at his glass, "Delaying feeding baby are we?"

"I'll have you know, Mr. Blake, that you shouldn't trifle with a woman who may or may not choose to act on her emotions and strangle you with the tie you've wrapped around your neck." John's ears pricked at the Irish lilt from the man sitting diagonally from Blake. "She might decide to take your head off."

"Tom, don't be ghastly at the table." The woman next to him put her hand on his shoulder and he covered it with his own. "Mr. Blake can think as he likes."

"To his folly some might say." Gillingham laughed to himself, wedged between Anna and Talbot. "Though I am curious about where the other man from first class is."

"There's someone else in first class?" Lady Grantham turned to Lord Grantham. "I thought you knocked on all the berths and asked them to join us."

"I did." He paused, "There was one where no one answered."

"It could be that he's sleeping." Anna put forward, shrinking a little when all eyes fell on her. "We're trapped in a snow drift and I know that if I could take the time to catch up on some sleep I might take a stab at it."

"In the middle of the day?" Lady Mary scoffed, "We're not children and I'd hazard neither is he."

"Wasn't there a man they thought jumped from the train when we were stranded?" Mrs. Crawley squinted, as if narrowing her vision might bring her mind into better focus. "The German police were asking questions about someone."

"Did they ask you as well?" The man between Tom and the second Crawley sister had John craning around to see him. His ears stuck out a bit too far from his head but there was an honesty in his expression John swore he never saw before. "I thought they only asked us because we're in the berth on his side."

"His ticket certainly did its damage in breaking up our sleeping arrangements." Lady Mary grumbled, "We were supposed to have all of first class and then he wheedles his way into an empty berth."

"It was empty, Mary." Matthew chided, "Anyone with enough money to pay for the ticket's entitled to it."

"Then perhaps he should've been less entitled when he made that horrible racket in the middle of the night." Lady Mary pursed her lips, "Kept me up half the night with his tossing and turning. It sounded like he had someone in there with him and I guarantee you whatever was going on wouldn't be something you'd write home about."

"Depends on the kind of people you've got at home." Talbot chuckled and nodded when Tom joined his laughter. "I'm sure you've got a few of those stories yourself."

"None that I repeat now with my wife and father-in-law present… as I value my life." Tom smiled and hugged the woman next to him closer, "And none that mater now that I have Sybil."

"What about you two?" Lady Grantham pointed to John and Anna. "you said this morning you met at a conference in Vienna but you look awfully close for just a happenstance meeting in Vienna."

"Based on the shade of red Anna's turning I'd say there's more than a happenstance meeting in Vienna behind their intimacy now." Lady Mary's lip turned up in a smirk. "Perhaps that was the noise that kept me up last night."

"Even if it were, Mary Crawley," Anna teased back, "We're in second-class and no matter how good your hearing is I doubt you'd have heard that far."

"You're underestimating me."

"Not a mistake many make and keep their heads." Gillingham leaned toward Anna, keeping his focus on Lady Mary. "I think she's making the noise up to cover whatever noises she might've been making last night."

"I detest vulgar jokes."

"Only when made at your expense." The second sister spoke up again and Lady Mary shot her a glare.

"I'm sure no one could make a joke at the expense of Lady Edith Crawley since there's nothing even remotely interesting enough about her."

"Mary!" Matthew's voice cut the mood of the table in a moment, "That was uncalled for and unkind."

"I guess it's difficult to keep one's head when we're all trapped in a steel box on the edge of a cliff waiting to fall to our deaths." The sour woman from the platform sneered from her end of the table, at Lady Edith's right. "We're all entitled to let out a bit of that steam."

"Not all steam is good steam, O'Brien." Lady Grantham shook her head, "We're in a difficult situation but hope isn't lost yet."

"Exactly so. We're in a bit of a bind but nothing permanent. No need to forgo all decorum." Lord Grantham cut in. "We're all here to get to know one another and make friends."

"I guess it all depends on what kind of people we want as our friends and what kind of friends we'd like to be." Mrs. Crawley smiled at Talbot. "Someone as engaging and diplomatic as Mr. Talbot here could soon be counted among my friends."

"I'd be honored to share that pleasure Mrs. Crawley." He turned to Lady Mary, "Would you be my friend Lady Mary?"

"I'd rather risk an infection." She stood, "As entertaining as this has been, I think I'll ask for lunch in my cabin and follow Anna's advice for a lie down."

"Are you alright?" Matthew was out of his seat and up the moment Lady Mary scooted her chair back.

"I'm fine. Just overindulged in terms of getting to know a group of strangers on a train." Lady Mary and Matthew departed as Conductor Moseley and the cook arrived with their food.

Anna leaned over to John, whispering in his ear, "None of them seem overly concerned with a missing person."

"Should they be? Your friend, Lady Mary, is right. There's no reason to know him since he's not a friend."

"They've all been questioned by the police about the disappearance of a man from the train and none of them find that overly odd?"

"They're not trained like we are to find that suspicious." John took a breath, "Further, I've found that most people are blind to those things that don't directly concern them. They don't care unless it's them."

"What a miserable existence."

"It's myopic but not always miserable." John sat straighter, "For now we just need to proceed with caution and not arouse anyone's interest too closely into the missing man who's not actually missing."

"I'm sure if anyone asks about the handcuffs on the freezer they'll start putting pieces together."

"Not necessarily." John nodded toward Talbot, continuing a lively conversation, "What do you think he's learning."

"More than we are conferring with ourselves." Anna nudged him toward Lord Grantham. "Go on. We've got to find a killer."

"Killers, plural." John went to turn but stopped, eyes narrowing.

Anna caught his gaze and leaned slightly to see past Blake to the married couple sitting at his right. "Why are you staring at them?"

"They've said nothing, this whole conversation."

"Neither has the man on the other side of the sour women Lady Grantham called O'Brien." Anna shrugged, "What about them?"

"Silence usually means there's reason to suspect they're possibly guilty."

Anna raised her eyebrows, "Them? They're old enough to be my parents. They'd never fight Mr. Green and stab him that many times."

"They wouldn't have to fight him." John tapped the table, "Remember, drugged."

Before Anna could respond Lord Grantham put a hand on John's shoulder. "Now, tell me how you got on after the war. I'm curious about the affairs of my old friend Bates."


	7. Career of Evil

Talbot snuck into John's berth and took the seat by the small table as Anna curled on the end of the bed, with John pacing the small space. "I can tell you there's a lot to learn from that table."

"Apparently enough to believe that an old married couple killed Mr. Green." Anna nodded at John as Talbot's eyes widened. "His working theory given their reticence at lunch."

"The Carsons wouldn't do a thing like that."

"Everyone's capable of murder." John stopped, shrugging up a shoulder, "Granted not many people attack someone they don't know and then brutally stab them to death but we've got to start somewhere."

"What about on the dead man himself?" Talbot tapped his temple, "Something about that man's face has me convinced I've seen him before."

"And while there is a reasonable argument for the Carsons as a duo, since we would need at least two someones, they don't have the strength for it." Anna shrugged a shoulder, "Imagine the two of them driving a knife into someone's chest."

"No," Talbot stood, tapping his fingers along his forehead as he paced counter to John in the small space. "Something about this reminds me of something."

"You've encountered the oldest versions of Bonnie and Clyde one could ever meet?"

"I don't think it's fair to assume they're-" Anna tried to interrupt but Talbot snapped his fingers.

"It's the Crawleys."

"What about them?" John risked a look at Anna but she shook her head, focusing on Talbot.

"About ten years ago Lord and Lady Grantham were pregnant."

"I remember this." John nodded, "They were excited because they thought they might actually have an heir."

"They lost the baby." Anna's voice cut the silence with a quiet tone. John and Talbot both shuffled in place as they tried to not to look at one another. "Mary told me about it."

"There's more to it than you know." Talbot held up a finger, "I can tell you that the child actually delivered as a healthy baby boy."

"The Crawley family had an heir?" John chewed the inside of his cheek, "Then why is the title going to Lady Mary's husband?"

"Not sure if you remember the end of the story but-"

"He was kidnapped and they found the body a year later." Anna sat on the end of he bed. "They'd done everything right. They paid the ransom, they didn't allow the police to get involved, and they tried to stay as removed as possible." Anna took a deep breath, "But the kidnapper took the money and only left the body in one of the fields the Crawleys work."

John frowned a moment, looking between Anna and Talbot before pointing at the latter. "What connected Green to the Crawleys for you?"

"There was suspicion about him." Talbot snorted, "We'd kept a tab on him in Naval Intelligence because we suspected some of his less than reputable ties to factions in Germany that are supporting Herr Hitler. When the news of the kidnapped heir to the Earl of Grantham came down the pipe it sounded similar to a ring of scandals I followed in Germany."

"Kidnappings?"

"Rich individuals losing their children for a few days and then trading loads of money for them." Talbot buried his hands in his pockets,, shrugging up his hunched shoulders. "I guess he heard too many success stories and thought he could earn himself some luck the same way."

"Did you like him for it?" John leaned back on the wall, feeling the steady beat of the heating through the paneling.

"His expanded bank account had me on him faster than rot on a corpse." Talbot smiled and then stopped, "Sorry, poor taste."

"Those other children," Anna frowned at the carpet, as if trying to work out a detail, "They weren't babies, were they?"

"No, they were young adults and spoiled rotten but they could feed and dress themselves if pressed to it."

Anna turned to John, "Then the baby died because a greedy man couldn't properly feed or care for it."

"That's why the baby wasn't returned. It was already dead." John covered his mouth with his hand, "And he ran for it."

"My question," Talbot scratched the side of his head with a finger, "Is how the Crawley family would've put it together?"

"How'd you mean?" John pointed to Talbot, "You connected them."

"Because I work in Intelligence." Talbot smirked, "It's not just a title of my division mate."

"He's still got a valid point." Anna shook a finger at John, her focus on Talbot. "How would they put it together?"

"From the papers I read they claimed it was a tragic accident and the family went into full mourning." John shook his head, "Foul play, as we've just learned from Mr. Talbot here, was the information of a privileged few."

"What if someone leaked it?" Anna rocked in place slightly, "I know that if I had even the slightest hint of it, a shred of evidence, I would've told Mary in a heartbeat."

"Then someone they know let the penny drop." John looked at Talbot.

Talbot met his eyes and shuddered while taking a step back. "Me? I don't know the Crawleys from Adam and I can assure you, what you witnessed between Lady Mary and I today wasn't part of a fabricated drama."

"You are alone on this train with no alibi for your whereabouts in our window." Anna stood, folding her arms over her chest, "And you took the time to know the ins and outs of this train."

"As a part of my work, which I'll have you both remember you uncovered this morning."

"That only gives us more reasons to suspect you." John nodded at Anna, "She's bright and I'm on her side."

"Then let me state some facts so we can hop off this particular train of thought." Talbot held up his fingers sequentially. "First, those photographs on my camera are vital to the state of our nation and no matter how much I respect any single person I'd let my own mother be murdered to get those back safely. That means I wouldn't jeopardize three months of deep cover work over a happenstance meeting on a train. Second, as I said, I don't know the Crawleys personally or socially. Third, I could just as easily suspect the two of you."

"We already told you what we were doing." Anna frowned and Talbot snorted.

"And convenient for the two of you that you've got better connections to the Crawleys than I do and there are two of you. Plus," He waved his hands in the air, "I'm not ambidextrous so I couldn't wield that knife with my non-dominant hand."

John paused, frowning a moment before meeting Talbot's gaze again, "What'd you say about 'happenstance'?"

"That I wouldn't risk a lucky meeting on a train to get my licks in."

John turned to Anna, "All these people in the same place at the same time isn't just luck or a twist of fate that we're all going in the same direction."

Anna took a breath, "Are you suggesting that you don't think it's coincidence that these people all booked their trips at this time?"

"As an investigator and someone with half a brain, no, and statistically speaking, definitely not."

"Then everyone," Talbot drew a circle in the air amongst them, "Other than us, of course, is a suspect?"

John nodded, "From the Earl, to his wife, their three daughters, the husbands, the Dowager Countess, her traveling companion Mrs. Crawley…" He gave a snort, "Perhaps even Blake, Gillingham, the Carsons, the two sour individuals-"

"Thomas and O'Brien?" Anna shook her head, "They wouldn't stick their necks out for their own grandmothers if there wasn't personal gain to it."

"Even so, until we've ruled them out we've got to consider all the possibilities." John ran a hand over his face, "Everyone, like it or not-"

"I'm going for 'not'." Talbot commented, taking a seat on the bed.

"Everyone's a suspect here."

The berth was quiet a moment as the thought sank in before Anna turned to Talbot. "If your office was the only place where information about Green's more seedy activities was being kept, who talked?"

"What?"

"If you had the information that allowed you to suspect Green, though you might not've had the evidence to prove it, then someone in your office had to've informed the Crawley family."

Talbot shook his head, "Whoever did would risk treason and the subsequent hanging to give out that kind of detail."

"It wouldn't have to be much." John took one of his arms from its folded position and opened it in the direction of the first-class cabins. "With the resources at their fingertips and the desire to find the party responsible for the death of their son they could've found everything else on their own. They only would've needed a clue."

"Someone with a heart overflowing with guilt or compassion would've told them as a way to help end their pain." Anna snapped her fingers and pointed to John, "You said that Blake worked a pressure-filled government job. Something close to Mr. Talbot's office perhaps?"

"He's in the internal ministry, specializing in farming." John shook his head, "I can't even imagine the layers of people he'd have to get through to have a crack at the information Mr. Talbot has."

"I know the layers and it wasn't him." Talbot put his hands to his knees, pushing himself to his feet. "For now how the Crawley family got ahold of the information is irrelevant for two reasons."

"Which are?"

"We can't prove they have it and if they had access to it we can't prove they acted on it." Talbot whistled, "Could you imagine the foreplanning to make sure they'd all be on this train? And then the horrible circumstance when they're trapped in a snowdrift with the body they just made of a man?"

"I can imagine it might have some people testy enough to throw barbs at strangers across a lunch table." John shrugged, "Pregnant or not, I've known murder to make people a bit anxious."

"From personal experience, outside your jurisdiction, I know it tends to do the same to me." Talbot straightened, "For now I think we should leave it all alone."

"Why would you say that?" Anna pointed toward the kitchen freezers, "There's a dead man locked in one of those freezers with multiple stab wounds."

"He's a kidnapper, a suspected rapist, and a known conspirator with the rising Nazi party." Talbot shook his head, "That man deserves none of your pity or your time. Leave him for whomever out there might still love him. Though I'm convinced that could only be his mother, if she even has a bit of her heart left for him."

"Everyone deserves justice, Mr. Talbot."

Talbot drew back the door, "That man got his and that's where I'm leaving it."

The bump of the berth door against the holding jarred John and Anna to look at one another. He ran a hand through his hair before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "Maybe he's right."

"We're all a bit right about it." Anna sat next to him, putting her hand over his. "I remember how it all tore the Crawleys apart."

John nodded, "I can only imagine that in my nightmares."

"Mine too." Anna gave a soft laugh, "I always wanted children of my own but given my recent history I thought the opportunity passed me by."

"Why'd you say that?"

Anna shrugged, "I'm driven in my job. I like what I do and I'm good at it. Given the fact that none of the men in my village or in my vicinity will touch me with a ten-foot pole or are the kind of men I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole, I'd have to spend time looking much farther afield for a husband."

"Any man would find himself lucky to have you, Ms. Smith." John took her hand, caressing it in both of his. "You're by far the most intelligent, even-tempered, level-headed, quick-thinking beauty I've met. More to the point, you're also rather witty, unbelievably sensual, and very frank with her desires. None of that beating-round-the-bush nonsense."

She leaned toward him, her eyes on his lips. "I can't stand that kind of thing."

"Me either." John's breath caught a bit when he felt her chest press against his, "And I might go as far as to suggest that the men in your immediate vicinity are, for lack of a better turn, bloody stupid for trying to make you something you're not."

"And what, Mr. Bates, might that be?"

"Less than who you are."

Her lips were on his and John's hands abandoned hers to cup around her face as she pressed him back toward the bed. The buttons his shirt came loose and his tie loosened but only enough so that when Anna used it to pull his face to hers when he broke for air it did not strangle him. Her heels hit the floor and John swore he heard the tearing sound of delicate nylons stripping from her legs but the next thing he knew for sure was the buckle of his belt tinkled.

John grabbed her hands, breaking their kiss, and met Anna's confused face with a smile. "Not that I'm not going to enjoy every minute of you having your way with me on this bed, Ms. Smith, but I believe we might want to take it a bit slower."

"Why?"

"Because you're the kind of thing that should be treasured and appreciated and loved." John's finger moved a bit of hair from Anna's already red-tinged face. "Not shagged like randy teenager."

"We've not got much time."

"We've got enough to take this a bit more slowly." John leaned up, barely brushing her lips, "Will you allow me to worship you the way you deserve?"

"Perhaps a little more tonight." Anna seized his lips, her fingers digging into the skin at the back of his neck. "In this moment I want to ravish you."

"I'd be a fool to refuse."

Giving himself over to her insistence, John worked his trousers and underwear down his legs while Anna shimmied enough to get her knickers flying to the floor. Her hand wrapped over him and John's head went back into the thin mattress, gulping air into his lungs as she grasped and squeezed. His hands shook slightly, not nearly as coordinated as hers, and tried to sculpt up her thighs.

When he brushed over her the wet heat almost left him groaning but Anna swallowed the sound as her mouth covered his again. Tongues tangled while their fingers tried to send the other to their frenzied end. But when Anna had enough, crying out into John's mouth with his fingers slipping and sliding insider her, she pressed her palms to his chest and forced him back to the mattress to mount him.

In one swift move she sheathed herself on him and both let out their own moans of relief. Anna's hand stayed on John's chest, leveraging herself to rock and bob to a rhythm she set between gyrations of her hips. John's hands took hold of her hips, sliding over the rumpled material of her blouse to knead at her still covered breasts, and tried to set a pace. However, without any complaint, Anna steered them as she willed and soon the only discernable sounds were the squeak of the mattress and their labored breathing.

He broke before her, letting out a final puff of air as she sagged onto his chest. Their fingers scrambled to bring her to join him and a moment later her arms draped over him. They lay there, struggling to breathe, until Anna finally pushed herself up enough to see him.

"I do look forward to seeing how you'd worship me, Mr. Bates."

"I can promise, it'll be a little like last night except it won't have any of the first-time awkwardness."

Anna frowned, "I don't remember anything being awkward."

"There's always a bit of a fumble when you're not used to one another."

"I feel like I was used to you the moment you grabbed my bag at the station." She carefully lifted herself, waiting a moment before risking her weight on her legs. "Anyone who speaks to me like you did then was worth all my time and attention."

"I promise, I'll not let you regret that decision."

Anna leaned over, running a finger down John's jaw. "I could never regret anything that happens between us on this train, John. Not for a single moment."

"Even if we have to accuse people we know of murder?"

Her face fell slightly and she pursed her lips, "Even then. For I know now that I'm who I was always meant to be?"

"An investigator?"

"With you." Anna smiled and straightened, "And it's all part of the process, isn't it? The risks and the rewards in equal measure?"

"I wish it was a little less of this process." John sighed and started righting himself. "They'll call us names, curse us for dredging up these troubles."

"Mr. Bates." Anna put a finger over his mouth, "For the next few moments can we just have this?"

John nodded and then snatched her hand, eyes wide. "You just said 'we'."

Anna frowned, "Yes?"

"What if it's not a 'who' but a 'whom'?"

"I'm not following."

"It's not one person."

"What?"

"Justice is served, that's what Talbot said. Justice isn't dispensed by vigilantes but by juries. By 'we' not 'I'." John stood, tucking his shirt into his trousers, "We need those pictures."


	8. A Study in Scarlet

Anna held one up, "This one?"

"At the head of the bed." John pointed and set a picture of his own, recreating Green's berth on his haphazardly straightened sheets. "And this one in the center."

"What are we looking for?"

"Multiple killers," John set the last picture and the stepped back. "I don't think a single person did this, or even two people. I think it was a load of them."

"Tight fit."

"Most of the people on this train are British," John grinned, "We know how to queue."

"Can't say I ever queued for the opportunity to drive a knife into a man's chest but I accept that not everyone find joy where I do." Anna folded her arms over her chest and nodded toward the photographs that overlapped to show the cup. "We know it was someone with access to Barbital."

"Anyone with problems sleeping could get that from the chemist."

"Then I guess we stay up tonight and find out who exactly struggles to sleep." Anna winked at him, "Though I was hoping we wouldn't be sleeping ourselves."

John swooped down to kiss her before standing straight again, "I wasn't planning on sleeping either."

"Good." Anna turned back to the photographs, "The berth was already a mess when we entered, as if someone wanted it to appear like a struggle."

"You don't sound convinced about that."

"I'm no mortician, Mr. Bates, but I've watched enough autopsies for the stories I report to know this is not what I'd expect from a man who fought back or even from a dead body."

"Me either." John tapped the photographs with the cup, "But whoever put in the trouble of the illusion forgot about the Barbital."

"Or they hoped no one would notice it."

"No," John shook his head, "They want confusion."

"I agree, there's no reason to it."

"It's more than that." John pointed to the photographs assembled to recreate Green's bed. "The bed sheet we wrapped over him and his pajamas were soaked in blood from stab wounds that covered his torso. That's the sign of significant passion. But those wounds varied in depth and angle."

"At least three of those wounds were inflicted by a left handed person, one with a back handed jab, and another who drove sideways." Anna breathed out, "Not the work of the Carsons seeing as Mr. Carson is pushing sixty and his wife is over fifty herself."

"Passion gives strength to anyone." John nodded, "But yes, you're right, they're not a duo of murderers."

"I'm so glad you could find it in your heart to agree."

John gave her a half scowl before waving his hand over the photographs, "But the theory of this crime makes no sense."

"How'd you mean?"

"If you're about to stab someone, do you dance around them and drive your knife in haphazardly?"

"I wouldn't take the chance that it didn't work." Anna shook her head, "I'd take on position and stab downward repeatedly. Even abiding by chaos theory, which says that I could never hit the same place on his body twice, the wounds would still center around one location."

"The lack of cluster leading to my supposition that we're dealing with a group."

"Yes, you're queue of patient stabists." Anna paused, "Is that a word?"

"I've no idea." John turned toward the door, "Even if we checked the body again it'd tell us the same thing."

"Which is?"

"Whatever compilation of the guests gathered on this train who did this did it with particular vehemence."

Anna sucked in her cheeks, "There's the theory, like those who stabbed Julius Cesar, that if so many people contributed to the event then there's no way to tell who the killer was. No one person bears the blame if they're all to blame."

"I guess the ridiculous question at this point is how so many people could hate the same person enough to not only plan this but then pass the knife around to stab him to death." John ran his hand through his hair, leaning back against the wall, "They all believed this man stole Lord and Lady Grantham's baby and killed him."

"We still can't prove they had any idea the man was on the train."

"It's Occam's Razor."

Anna frowned a moment, "You mean the idea that the simplest idea is usually the correct one?"

"Exactly. We thought it odd coincidence that we knew everyone on this train but it's no coincidence if they all gathered for a single purpose."

"I think we're forgotten that the universe doesn't abide by that principle and sometimes people just happen to be in the same place at the same time."

John rose to the taunt, "Are you saying you don't believe in fate, Ms. Smith?"

"I'm saying that sometimes we look for meaning in things that don't mean anything." Anna shrugged, "As Freud said, 'sometimes a cigar is just a cigar'."

"I think he was referring to the fascination people have with-"

"I know the original reference, Mr. Bates." Anna turned back to the photographs, "I think we need to speak to his valet and the man who brought Mr. Green breakfast."

"You think they'll tell us something?"

"We're supposing that all these people gathered on the same train to murder this man." Anna put her hand out, as if waiting for someone to drop something into it, "What if Mr. Green knew it?"

"You mean since he came to my table requesting my help?"

"I believe it was _our_ table but yes, because he thought someone was going to kill him."

"There's something to be said about self-fulfilling prophecies." John collected his jacket, forcing his arms through it and making sure his clothing was straight in the mirror. "But wicked men tend to meet wicked ends."

"Mr. Bates, you never said you tried your hand at poetry." Anna stepped back as John opened the door and led the way into the corridor. "Perhaps you missed your calling as a philosopher and poet."

"As lovely as that would be I do tend to enjoy eating and since life is too expensive to wander the world as a destitute poet I think I chose the right profession." John guided them back to the dining car where Mr. Moseley spoke with the cook and pointed to a gangly ginger-headed man arranging tables.

They waited for Mr. Moseley and to finish. When he turned to them his face fell a moment but John held up a hand. "I promise, we're still working the case."

"The German police've been on me about it all morning. Saying all evidence is pointing to Mr. Green having fled but they can't find traces of him in the snow." Mr. Moseley lowered his voice, rubbing a worried hand over his balding head. "I don't know how long I can stall them and my cook just asked why one of her freezers is handcuffed closed."

"I hope you told her it was empty."

"What I told her isn't as pressing as what I'll tell the German police when they ask why we're not more concerned over Mr. Green's disappearance."

"I'm sure if you told them he's a wanted criminal in England they'd be less concerned about his welfare as well." Anna muttered but John moved on with their conversation.

"We'd like to take a moment to speak to the waiter who brought breakfast to Mr. Green this morning and his valet."

"The valet's in the berth with Mr. Talbot." Mr. Moseley looked over the preparations for dinner. "And Alfred will be finished in a few minutes. Where should I have him meet you?"

"Outside Mr. Talbot's berth, if he can manage it." John jerked his head and Anna followed him back to second-class. He rapped his knuckles on the door to Talbot's berth and it opened to reveal on a blonde-haired man with a sincere face. John frowned a moment, "Is Mr. Talbot not here?"

"He's gone to play a hand of cards with two other gentlemen." He pointed, "It's just-"

"Actually," Anna cut in, "It's you we're here to see."

"Me?" His brow furrowed, "Do we know one another?"

"No," John motioned toward the interior of the berth, "Do you mind if we come in? It's not a conversation for the corridor."

The man stepped back and allowed John and Anna to squeeze into the space. He and John stood almost equal in height, their broad shoulders taking up much of the room. John adjusted toward the table in the corner and Anna perched on the edge of the bed. The other man shuffled a moment before speaking.

"Can I ask how I can help you?"

"I'm John Bates and this is my associate, Anna Smith, and we want to know what you know about the murder of Mr. Alex Green."

"Oh," He sat heavily on the bed, "I thought that was over and done with when the German police didn't find anything and they didn't ask me any questions."

"Unfortunately no," John pointed between himself and Anna, "We're handling it to prevent anyone getting this strapped around their necks so the Germans can hang them with it."

"That's generous of you." He shook himself, "I'm sorry, I'm so rude. I failed to introduce myself."

Sticking his hand out, the man shook John and then Anna's hands. "I'm William Mason, Mr. Green's valet." He stopped, "I guess, _former_ valet is more correct."

"I'm sorry he couldn't give you a good reference."

"It's nothing." William shrugged, "I can always go back and help my father at his farm. It's where my wife is now and she'd like it if I stopped having to travel the length and breadth of Europe."

"Did your wife like Mr. Green?"

"Oh no." William shook his head so fast some of his hair escaped the liberal shellacking that gave it a shine in the light of the cabin lights. "She detested him. Said if he ever set foot in her house she'd take a skillet to his head."

"And what was your opinion of Mr. Green?" John leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

William paled slightly and he held up his hands, "You don't think I did it, do you?"

"No," Anna put a hand on William's knee. "We've no doubt you're innocent in this."

"Really?"

"Yes." She cleared her throat, "How much do you know about your employer?"

"I know he came into his money quite recently."

John frowned, "How could you tell?"

"I've served in great houses, Mr. Bates, and when they're built on the money of their forbearers you watch them handle it with frugality. Mr. Green was far more liberal with his money and risked it all the time on scams and deals and gambling and bargains." William scoffed, "It's a wonder he lasted as long as he did."

"Is there still money?"

"I don't know. I do know that I wouldn't get any of it so I doubt it would matter." William shrugged, "He didn't like me much."

"Any particular reason?"

"He said I was too soft for his business. That I didn't have a knack for it and I'd never understand it."

"I guess you gave him one too many judgmental side comments."

"I never said a word to him. Tried to be polite but I didn't want to know any more about him than I did when I started the job."

"Did desperation send you into his employ?" Anna rested her hands on her knees as William nodded.

"My father got ill and I couldn't manage his farm with my wife alone. So we took on help and I took better paying work."

"Did Mr. Green pay well?"

William shook his head, "Never."

"Then why take the job?"

William bit at his cheeks and looked at the floor while mumbling his answer. "Because of the money and the advert."

John frowned, "What advert and what money?"

William flailed a moment. "We needed the money and I didn't have anywhere to go with my skills. Then, my old employer, sent me a letter. It included an advertisement from Mr. Green, looking for a qualified valet, and a substantial advance. I took it to pay for the tenancy on the farm. I didn't know there'd be other letters."

"What other letters?"

When William did not answer Anna scooted toward him, putting her hands over his as he sniffled the start of his sobs. "William, you're not under investigation. We're just trying to discover who killed Mr. Green."

"I did." He looked at them, "At least, I had a hand in it."

John and Anna, both wide-eyed, exchanged looks before John nodded for Anna to continue. She softened her voice all the more and addressed William again. "How do you think you had a hand in his death, William?"

"Because I kept getting letters." He wiped at his eyes, smiling gratefully when Anna gave over a handkerchief. "Each place we went there were always two letters waiting for me. One from my wife and another from someone else."

"Who else?"

William shrugged, "I don't know. They were never signed and there was never a return address. But they always included money, a promise that some had already gone to my wife, and a request to update the sender on the progress of the journey."

John put up a hand, "How'd you update them if there was no return address?"

"Each letter had an address in London. I was to send all correspondence there." William dug in his pocket and pulled one out, "I meant to send this at our stop last night but I fell asleep and missed it."

John opened the letter, reading the simple contents about the progress of Mr. Green's business dealings, his precarious financial situation, and their next stops on the European tour. When he got to the address at the bottom he swallowed and turned to Anna. "I think we should allow Mr. Mason his rest now."

"What about Mr. Green?" William shot up with them and John pulled just short of running into him. "Will I be implicated in his death?"

"I doubt it. You're the messenger and while I think you're a bit too trusting and naïve, neither of those is a crime." John put a hand on William's shoulder and held up the letter. "You're unemployed now, Mr. Mason, that's all you are. But I am keeping this if you don't mind."

"It's worthless now since he's already deceased." William opened the door for them, "Would you think less of me if I admitted that I felt more than a touch of relief when we found him dead this morning?"

"I think you'd be in the same position as everyone else on this train, Mr. Mason." John nodded to him, "Good evening."

John felt Anna run into his back when he paused, turning to face William again. He gave Anna an apologetic look before speaking. "Did Mr. Green have any enemies? Anyone he felt was threatening him or following him or otherwise wished him harm?"

William nodded, "He'd caused some very dangerous people some significant distress and there were always threats coming at him. But none seemed to stick once we left the cities." He chewed his lip, "It was odd though, how we traveled."

"How'd you mean?"

"It was like we were making sure it didn't make sense. It was like watching a ball bounce from one side of the room to the other. We never stopped anywhere more than three days and we always moved."

"Like he wanted to throw someone off his scent?" Anna pressed and William nodded.

"Like he didn't want anyone to predict where he'd go."

"So, in your words, you'd say he was afraid someone might catch up to him one day?"

"I think he lived in perpetual fear of it."

"Thank you." John pointed to the corridor, "We'll be on our way now."

"If there's anything more I can do to help I-"

"I think you've been more than helpful William, thank you." Anna soothed, "We're so grateful for all you've already done."

They entered the corridor and the ginger headed man from earlier stood up from where he leaned on the windowsill. "Mr. Moseley said you needed to speak to me and told me to wait here." He tugged at the bottom of his waistcoat and swallowed, "I hope you're not about to-"

"We don't believe you had anything to do with Mr. Green's death." John held up a hand, lowering his voice as he stepped closer to the man. "You're Alfred, correct?"

"Yes sir. Alfred Nugent. I've been serving on this line for three years now as waiter and sous-chef."

"Impressive." John pointed toward the first-class cabins. "Did you deliver a drink to Mr. Green's berth last night?"

"I did sir."

"What was it?"

"The tea that he ordered." Alfred frowned, "It was something special fro China he'd brought with him. He practically shoved the bag as me when I offered him what we had. Said it was all he'd drink."

"Did you make it for him as per his instructions?"

"There weren't any instructions beyond how I always make tea."

"Did you, at any point, leave the cup where you didn't watch it?"

Alfred pursed his lips, eyes scrunched as he thought hard and then nodded. "There was a moment when I set it on a table because I forgot the bag of tea in the kitchen. I went back to get it so I could return it with the cup of tea."

"Did you notice anything odd about the tea when you retrieved it?"

It took another moment for Alfred to respond, "It had an odd smell. But I assumed it was the tea since I'd never tried the stuff. Brewing it was bitter on its own and I assumed that when it sat the smell just marinated."

John turned to Anna, "Or when you lace a drink with Barbital."

She nodded and reached around John to put a hand on Alfred's arm, since she could not reach his shoulder, "Thank you. We're sorry we've taken so much of your time."

"No, it's truly my pleasure to help. I want whoever did this found."

"We'd advise you not to tell anyone what you saw or what you know." John gestured to Anna, "Except for us and Mr. Moseley the train is oblivious to Mr. Green's demise and it must remain that way or the German police'll hear of it."

"I'm mum about it all sir. You don't need to worry about me." He nodded to them and his long legs helped him stride back toward the kitchen.

John sighed, facing Anna, "Except that's a lie isn't it?"

"Which part?"

"The part that no one else on this train knows Mr. Green is dead." He shook his head, "If our theory's correct they all know because they all did it."


	9. Strangers on a Train

John leaned toward Anna's ear, "Any particular table you prefer?"

"One where we can snoop around for information I think." She pointed toward where Lord Grantham beckoned them over, "Or the decision's made for us."

"It seems it is." John followed Anna, pulling out her chair for her before taking the one to her left. "I hope you all had a pleasant afternoon."

"Not sure how pleasant it can be when you're stuck in a snowdrift and realize you forgot all your books because everyone said you'd be too preoccupied with viewing the countryside to read." Lord Grantham frowned toward his mother, "I knew I should've packed something."

"Well why didn't you?" The Dowager huffed, "You had room in your bag."

"I believe you're the one who told me it'd be superfluous."

"Oh," The woman flustered a moment, "Don't blame me that the first time you listened to a word I said it was on this trip."

"There are less pleasant ways to spend time but I'll say this German interrogation…" Lady Grantham sighed, "What horrible things must've happened involving that man to have him under such scrutiny."

"It's the fact that he's missing and only the Germans are looking for him that might tell us he's not worth the trouble." Lady Mary shook her head, focusing her attention on her cup. "There's nothing here but boredom and bad company."

"I'm sorry you think so little of our company you'd complain about it." The Dowager scrunched her face and let her head wobble back a moment as if she needed to shift her entire neck to gain a better vantage point on the dining car. "I happen to think the men I joined for a spot of cards after lunch were impeccably interesting. One of them races cars for a living."

"Which one?" Tom leaned around the table, a light to his eyes that screamed of a sincere enthusiast.

"If she tells you Tom we'll never see you again." Lady Mary smiled to herself, holding her cup up as Alfred came around with the pot to fill it again. "And then where would Sybil be?"

"Resting, where I thought you would be." Lord Grantham frowned, "Aren't you supposed to be taking care of the baby or something?"

"According to all the medical books Matthew's been devouring to prepare himself for it, it's only the size of an orange so I'm not sure there's enough of it for me to worry over it as much as you seem to be."

"Can I help that I'm hoping you're carrying the next in a series of stable heirs to our house?"

"Given the way nobles houses like ours seem to be falling to ruin I wouldn't put too much hope in keeping the seat or the title as anything more than something you use to get better seating when making restaurant reservations." Lady Mary turned to Anna, "I do hope I can assume that since you've been spending all of your time locked away in Bates's cabin you're using the time well?"

John spluttered on his tea but Anna shrugged. "He's been analyzing a case with me."

"A case." Lady Grantham shot a frown at Lady Mary on her way to focus on Anna, "What kind of case?"

"It's one I'm trying to write about since it was rather a thing in Germany." Anna shifted in her chair, "Apparently, since the rise of this Nazi party, there's been a rash of kidnappings of children of the elite."

"How dreadful." Lady Grantham clutched at Lord Grantham's hand. "None of the children were hurt were they?"

"As far as I could tell, no, but since most of our foreign correspondents have already left Berlin and the other major cities there it's been hard to get any kind of detail." Anna opened her hand in John's direction. "I turned to Mr. Bates for his expertise in handling that kind of case."

"You specialize in kidnapping cases Bates?" Lord Grantham took his turn to lean forward and John steeled himself to respond.

"Yes and no. I work mostly with violent crime, most of which I'd find too shocking to discuss at the table."

"Because we're a group of delicate women unable to handle a bit of gore, Mr. Bates?" Lady Mary set her cup in her saucer as John met her eyes. "I can most stoutly assure you that we here are stronger than we look."

"It's more that I'd hate to relive any of those things myself and I find when I tell other people about them it all feels too real again." John cleared his throat, "But I have handled more than a few kidnapping cases. Most of them, thankfully, resolve themselves within a few days and the perpetrators are caught."

"How'd you catch them?" Tom knocked on the table between them before shrugging. "I can't imagine they just give themselves up."

"Most criminals fall into a few categories." John brought up his hand to tick them off. "The desperate. Men trying to feed their families or themselves will steal and threaten to get what they need. Then there are those taking for personal gain. They tend to be either the very greedy and stupid or the very smart and greedy."

"The common denominator there being they're greedy?" The Dowager snorted her chuckle through her nose. "I guess the seven deadly sins are the kind that tend to drive us to failure."

"Exactly right milady." John conceded before continuing. Then there are those who do it for the pleasure of the action. Either to prove themselves to those they want to impress or as a way to prove to themselves they're capable."

"The Professor Moriartys of the world?" Lord Grantham gave a pointed look at his mother, "I was going to bring the collected works of Sir Conan Doyle on this trip."

"Then why didn't you?"

"Because…" Lord Grantham sighed, "Never mind."

"I would think that her ladyship has already read them." John sipped at his tea, trying to fight the urge to return any of the raised eyebrows and confused looks passing over him from those at the table. "She was the most observant of all of us at lunch."

"What was that?" The Dowager, using her hand on her cane as a lever to prop herself forward, squinted at him. "Observed what?"

"The missing man."

"I asked after him." Lady Mary huffed, "I guess attention's not what it used to be. If you're not first you're not anything."

John drew a circle with his finger in the air above them. "No one else noticed there was a man missing except her ladyship and I thought it rather a feat of observational skills. Rivaling, if nor surpassing, those held by members of my own division of the Yard in London."

"My dear boy," The Dowager managed a wry smile at John, "I've had my whole life to notice things that others fail to see. It's a gift and a curse of my age."

"I'm sure it's a noteworthy trait." John conceded, "Though, in Lady Mary's favor, she noted a racket no one else did."

"You wouldn't think that such an incredible feat if you were trying to sleep while another living being shifts and tumbles inside you."

"I thought you said it wasn't any bigger than an orange." Tom frowned and Lady Mary glared him to silence.

"What I'd like to know is who the man is." Lady Grantham finally spoke up, "What's a man like that doing in first class."

"Man like what?" Anna spoke up and Lady Grantham shrugged but John noted a tremor in her hands.

"Someone who could afford a first class ticket on a train like this has to be of some means but the only view I got of him was ragged travel clothes and well-worn case. A person of stature doesn't risk the fall in perception by allowing their appearance to falter like that and someone without the means to perpetuate the charade doesn't bother with a first class ticket." She let her last comment hang a moment, "It's the paradox of it that's had me thinking."

"Maybe he stole the ticket from someone he beat in an alleyway before he boarded." Lady Mary took her fork to a piece of pie, cutting it to pieces but never taking a bite. "Or he decided there was more to be gained by throwing someone off the trail."

"Throwing whom off the trail?" John interlaced his fingers, resting his hands on the table.

"When I passed his berth after dinner last night, on my way to get a cup of tea before bed, I saw him arguing with his valet." Lady Mary rolled her eyes, "It was completely disdainful."

"For someone to argue with their valet?" John frowned, "I'm sure people have frustrations with their staff."

"Frustrations with staff are handled as adults and with a level of decorum I'm sure our missing friend didn't have." Lady Mary sighed, "Someone of means and education doesn't berate their valet in the corridor where anyone can hear. Private matters are kept private. Behind locked doors and preferably at lower volumes."

"I thought his valet seemed a pleasant enough man when I ran into him in the dining car at breakfast." Tom shrugged, "Not sure what arguments anyone could have with someone as gentle and honest as he seemed to be."

"It was something to do with letters. The man was raving about his valet betraying their position or some such, like they were vessels out at sea." Lady Mary played with the edge of her cup before finally finishing it. She held up a hand to stop a refill. "He was ranting and railing even when I returned before snatching the cup of tea the poor waiter brought him. Then he laid into that man about the taste of his tea as he snatched the bag from the man's hands."

"How utterly disgraceful." Lady Grantham agreed. "There's nothing worse than a scene in public."

"I could think of a few worse things." The Dowager muttered as she lifted herself from the table by her firm grip on her cane. "Speaking of letters, I've a few to write myself since I've now got the time and I don't have a good excuse for ignoring them any longer."

The men at the table stood as well, waiting until the Dowager left the dining car before taking their seats again. John drew the letter he took from William from his pocket and cleared his throat. "Lord Grantham I do hope I'm not being rude if I ask for you help on a small matter."

"Not sure how you could be." He finished his own tea and shook his head at Alfred. "How can I be of assistance?"

"I received an address from my Chief Superintendent while I was in Vienna that he said might be related to a series of home invasions. He wanted me to look into it when I returned because he thought I might know the address."

"Did you?"

"It looked familiar and I could place the neighborhood but I couldn't remember who owns it." John held only the address on the smaller envelop out to him, "Do you recognize it?"

"This is Lord Gillingham's address." Lord Grantham's face fell, "Was his house broken into while he's been here?"

"My CS wasn't sure but he wanted to now what I knew about the address." John hurried to tuck the letter away, "He is one of the men on this train isn't he?"

"He was one of the men Granny played cards against." Lady Mary stood and the men stood with her. "According to her, he's not a bad player but I do believe she took the whole game at the end."

"I wouldn't be surprised." Lady Grantham stood as well, "I think I might follow her example and tend to some matters of my own."

"Letters?" Lord Grantham frowned, "I don't recall any we haven't addressed lately."

"Never hurts to send a few 'thank yous'." Lady Grantham smiled at the rest of the table. "Thank you for a wonderful tea. I'm sure you'll all enjoy the rest of the afternoon and evening."

And they did… or John at least attempted it. Between Anna's gentle questions and his own prodding interrogations they finally reconvened after dinner in her berth to discuss what they found. Anna dug into her bag, producing a pad where she scribbled feverishly while John jotted notes of his own.

When both raised their heads John pointed at Anna to begin. "I think you've got more than I do."

"Something about being small, blonde, and a woman that makes people less suspicious of your questions." She teased.

"Or it's that they'll expect you to find some way of bringing your more harmless seeming profession with you." John sighed, "I've a habit of interrogating people without meaning to instead of just speaking with them."

"We've all got our flaws Mr. Bates." Anna tapped her pad, "I'm not sure you noticed but Lady Grantham tensed with our conversations about the kidnappings."

"It wouldn't be unreasonable considering her own experience with them."

"But Mary also tensed. The longer she discussed Mr. Green the more detail she gave." Anna shrugged, "I don't have to be an investigator to know someone only does that when they're trying to create a lie."

"I got the feeling." John squirmed, "It didn't help that her own journey for tea coincided with Green getting his laced dose."

"She mentioned the smell." Anna shook her head, "Who would mention the smell if they were innocent?"

"I've had cases before where the guilty party wanted to be close to the investigation so they gave information and other details to stay close to it."

"As a way to gain power over it?"

"As a way to still feel connected to it." John drummed his fingers on the tabletop between them. "I think the worst thought we're both entertaining right now is that the pregnant Lady Mary Crawley drugged a man she later helped stab to death."

"The worse thought we're entertaining, Mr. Bates, is that any of them had to do it." Anna dropped her chin into her open palm. "But, in the words of Lord Grantham's revered Sherlock Holmes, we've eliminated the impossible and the improbably result is the truth we're forced to acknowledge."

"The Dowager, for all her deflection, seemed very intent on the fact that her recognition of Mr. Green's absence was nothing more than a skill developed with age."

"Why mention he was missing at all?" Anna put her hands in the air, "If she didn't want anyone to know she had a hand in it why bring attention to his absence."

"Mr. Talbot might know."

"Mr. Talbot's not helping us." Anna pursed her lips, "What if she was doing what we believe Lady Mary was doing?"

"Removing herself from the immediate circle of suspicion by drawing attention to a detail she thought relevant?"

"Maybe?" Anna cringed, "We are questioning people we know and respect under the guise of seeking out a group of killers."

"And you're suggesting they know we're looking into this?"

"We're talking about a group of educated and intelligent people, Mr. Bates." Anna's mouth twitched up in a little smirk, "They've already caught on to our clandestine relationship."

"We've not done much to hide it."

"In that train of thought," Anna reached forward, tugging at his tie, "I'd like you to be a less hidden from view."

"Would you now?" John pushed his chair back to follow Anna's pull on his tie that dropped him on the folded down seat they would need a carriage conductor to convert to her bed. "And how would you like to go about that?"

"With your handcuffs." Anna dug in his pocket and pulled them out, placing the keys on the table to the side. "If you don't mind."

"I can't say I've ever wanted a woman to use them on me more."

"Good." Anna removed his jacket, waistcoat, tie, and shirt to drape them over the back of his vacated chair. "Now I'd think I should use these."

John grinned and held out his arms. Anna shook her head, lifting his arms to the luggage rack to clip the cuffs around his wrists above his head. When she finished she stepped back and nodded at his hands. "Try to move."

He tugged and both of them cringed when the luggage rack creaked. "I think we should try to keep our taunting to a minimum as I don't care to explain to Mr. Moseley why they'd have to replace the luggage rack in this berth."

"Best keep this simple then." Anna moved toward him, running her hands over his fabric-covered thighs. "We can imagine another scenario in a future venue then?"

"Oh I'd like to." John reached for her mouth with his but Anna craned her head back out of reach. "If you're amenable."

"I might be." Anna unbuttoned her own blouse and worked it off with her skirt. "We could imagine what we'll be doing once we get out of this snow drift and off this train."

"I think I'll go for a stroll through a park and take you with me." John grinned as Anna discarded her shoes and slip to walk toward him in just her knickers and brassiere. "We could get a lovely spot of food at this little Bangladeshi place I know and then I'd invite you back to mine with the intention of offering you the bed while I took the sofa."

"You don't think I should get a hotel?" Anna unbuttoned his trousers, shucking them down his legs with to work his socks and shoes off his feet. "What would your neighbors say?"

"Not much that I'd care to know since I don't know them. I live alone and I'm always working."

"I don't want complete strangers thinking I'm a prostitute." Anna straddled his legs and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I've a reputation to keep and if they see my photograph one day in a newspaper for some writing award I win I don't want them saying, 'look, it's that prostitute that man brought back to his'."

"They'll only think that if they hear anything." John soothed, going to kiss her but Anna ducked away again. "You are making me trying to seduce you rather difficult you know. You must know."

"It's part of the fun Mr. Bates." Anna maneuvered her mouth near his ear and started a trail over his jaw. "I think I rather enjoy tormenting you this way."

"Can't say I'd say no to it yet." John tipped his head back as Anna skated over his collar. "But what about them?"

Anna stopped, moving to see his face. "What 'them'?"

"The them in the other berths that we're suspecting of being killers?"

"I'm," Anna dipped down to punctuate every following word with a kiss. "Not going to give them any mind until I'm quite finished here."

She stopped at his mouth, "What do you say to that, Mr. Bates?"

"Lead on Ms. Smith, let the problems of tomorrow take care of themselves."

"Right you are." Anna raised an eyebrow, "So I'll continue, shall I?"

"I think you should."

"Then I will." She faked a pout, "I'd hate to keep you waiting."

John kept one part of his mind locked on his hands held above his head in an effort to not reach for Anna as she teased and taunted him. If not to pull the luggage rack off the wall to fall on them to then to remember the noise level. More to the point, he needed the rest of his mind to enjoy her ministrations.

She kneaded over his muscles, kissed at every bit of skin she cared to reach, and then exposed more. John almost bit through is tongue trying to stay silent when she massaged over his erection… and then drew blood when she took him in her mouth. Her nails dug into his skin the way the cuffs keeping him form touching her cut into his wrists in his effort to free himself and yet make no noise.

When his hips jerked toward her and he pleaded in barely coherent breaths, Anna disengaged and pulled back. She reached over toward the table and John thought she might release him but, instead, she left her remaining clothing there to mount John in a smooth motion. The look on her face, as daring as any of her actions thus far, fed John's groan at the sensation of her wrapping around him.

"Something to say Mr. Bates?" She huffed, positioning herself to her satisfaction with a clawed hand at his waist and another at the back of his neck.

"Just that I've impressed myself more in the last two days than I thought possible."

"Because of your performance?" Anna lifted herself to sink back down, perpetuating the motion with an occasional rock of her hips while working her hands up his arms to interlace their fingers. "I've been impressed by it too."

"Just that there's been more than one."

"Difficulty with that in the past?"

"My ex-wife thought so." John grunted, driving up as far into her as he could. "Never quite managed to impress her the way she wanted."

"You've impressed me." Anna stopped, clicking her tongue against her teeth at John's whine. "But I already said that didn't I?"

"Perhaps we could say less and move more now?"

"Gladly."

Anna led them to the end, with John trying but failing miserably to bury the sounds he made in her shoulder, and her cry peaking a moment later. Her fingers quivered as she unlocked his wrists but did not move off him while she helped massage his hands back to life. Only once circulation was restored did Anna lift herself clear.

"I don't know about you, Mr. Bates, but I'm rather tired."

"We'll need sleep to prepare for tomorrow if it was anything like today." John gathered his clothing, chewing the inside of his lip a moment, "Perhaps you'd like to share my bed."

"What an offer Mr. Bates." Anna's eyes flashed at him, "What will the carriage conductor think when he's never had to help me change my bed?"

"I'm sure he's not paid enough to think anything." John extended a hand, "If you'd like."

"I think I would like." Anna took his hand, "As long as sleep's not the only think involved."

"I'm sure we could manage something else."


	10. The Woman in White

John sat against the wall, idly stroking a hand through Anna's hair as he squinted in the darkness of the cabin. She shifted and he paused, teeth almost clenched, and prayed she did not wake. Her even breathing allowed him a sigh and he continued his motions.

After another moment he got up, wrapped his dressing gown over his hastily thrown on pajama trousers, and worked into his slippers as quietly as possible before slipping from his berth. He walked the corridor to Talbot's door and knocked gently. He wondered if the trained valet or the intelligence officer heard him as the door jiggled and sighed when he saw Talbot, still dressed but for the loosened tie about his neck and the undone waistcoat.

Talbot eyed him up and down before removing the fag from his mouth to blow a bout of smoke toward the ceiling. "Something I can do for you Mr. Bates?"

"I was wondering if you'd clarify some things for me."

Talbot risked a look over his shoulder before letting the door close. "Perhaps not in earshot of the now unemployed valet I'd guess."

"Perhaps best." John opened a hand toward the dining car and they took the nearest seats. "I was wondering what drove Green to do it."

"Do what?" Talbot stabbed out the fag in the dish and leaned back in the chair he occupied.

"Risk everything by kidnapping the newborn of the Earl of Grantham." John shrugged, "Not to sound calloused but there were other children of a far more manageable age available to use as bait to swindle money from their parents."

"True but there's a few things to take into consideration when someone plans something like this."

"Have you ever planned anything like this?"

Talbot laughed a little, pushing back his hair, "Even if I had, Mr. Bates, I'd never tell you and you wouldn't really want to know."

"Why not?"

"Because you're not made for the life I lead or the things I do."

"You mentioned three months of work for the photographs we developed on your roll."

"And I'd appreciate if that's the last we ever mention them." Talbot lowered his voice, "I think you forget you're not the only policeman on this train. I like you, I really do, but I don't want them prying into those affairs and you wouldn't want to see the result if they did."

"Would you kill them?"

"I've done far worse in the name of my country." Talbot shrugged, "It's all about what we value, Mr. Bates, and in this case I value the idea that my country needs to be free of fascism and the mad ideology of the dictator keeping his tight fist over the country through whose borders we're now traveling."

"I agree with you there."

"But what would you do to keep him where he is and us where we are?"

John frowned, "Not sure I follow."

"Then I'll assume it's not what I do for a living." Talbot held up a hand, "It's not derogatory, Mr. Bates, it's just a statement that the lengths to which I will go to protect the king I serve the country I love are quite different from the bounds you'd set for yourself. Simple as that."

"Then what have you done, in this case, that would tell you why Mr. Green would risk everything to kidnap a baby?"

"You're assuming that was his only ever target."

"What do you know about it?"

Talbot rubbed the back of his neck, "Since the man's dead and that file'll close the moment we're back in London I don't find what I'm about to tell you to be as treasonous as it would've been had I said it before we boarded this train."

"I'll still keep in mind the gravity of what you're about to share with me."

"And me." Both men looked up to see Anna, wrapped in her won dressing gown and a quilt as she shivered. "It's an awful lot colder out here than in my cabin."

"You could go back where it's warm." John offered but Anna shook her head, drawing up another chair. "You're not there so I didn't see the point."

Talbot coughed, "If I may continue, now that we're all gathered?"

"Please." Anna brought up her legs to cuddle in the chair. "What do you know about him?"

"As I mentioned earlier this afternoon, we'd been keeping an eye on Mr. Green for some time due to comments he'd made and events he'd attended that put him in contact with a few Nazi sympathizers and suspected agents."

"Did he help them at all?"

Talbot shook his head, "Green, for all of his interest in the cause they supported, given his general disdain for his social position and those for whom he worked, wanted to overthrow the powers that be in a very old, and very boring, way."

"Take from the rich to give to yourself?" Anna snorted, "It seems all the rage about once every ten years."

"Exactly," Talbot rolled his eyes, "Waste of time in my opinion."

"But he wanted that?" John pressed and Talbot continued.

"Mr. Green wanted to work very little and get very much. It's the kind of criminal you spoke of this afternoon, the ones who do it for the greed."

"You heard what I said this afternoon?" John shuffled in his chair, "You weren't at tea."

"That's what you're supposed to think." Talbot grinned, "But he was also a man controlled by less desirable appetites. The kind that give one a few uncomfortable medical issues."

"I'm sure Mr. Green found prostitutes are an unforgiving lot." Anna cringed, "Not that it's undeserved for someone like him."

"I try not to pass judgment there."

Anna let her mouth turn into a smile, "I wouldn't have thought you'd struggle to get lovely women to share your company for a night or two Mr. Talbot."

"I don't. My interactions with prostitutes have been for information, not pleasure." He paused, "Usually."

"Did Mr. Green tire of his prostitutes?"

"They tired of him." Talbot grew serious again, "His tastes, at first, were the kind you expect from a lonely man who wants temporary company. But after some time they grew more extreme. From what I know of the community forced into the life of servitude for the physical pleasures, they tend to pass stories around and those about what he'd do to prostitutes were horrible."

"Like what?" Anna leaned forward and John noted Talbot's wince as he sought for the right words.

"Violence."

"They stopped servicing him?" John interlaced his fingers, gripping hard at the skin on the back of his hands.

"Some women are desperate and couldn't stop but most did. They'd rather risk a VD then the possibility his appetites might carry the game a step too far." Talbot sighed, "That's when he turned to the worst profession of them all, in my opinion."

"Worse than murder?" Anna raised her eyebrows, "What could be worse than that?"

"It's my opinion, Ms. Smith, that a woman deprived of her virtue and her self-respect is far worse than someone who's dead." Talbot shrugged, "Consider me old fashioned but the dead've got nothing over which to fret any longer. A raped woman has much more to fear and feel."

"You mentioned earlier that he was a suspected rapist." John took Anna's hand, noting how she stared at the floor.

"I say suspected because I could never definitively prove it in my investigations and my superiors weren't as interested in that as they were his possible conversion to the world of espionage but with the right resources I think I could've built a case for it." Talbot sighed, "Sometimes I think it's a shame we're all only able to live one life."

"You're always welcome to join me at the Yard." John offered but Talbot waved it off.

"I'd never survive in that world. My solution to Green was just to kill him but I never received the authorization." Talbot shook his head, "He moved on from rape to some petty thefts that could never be fully proved and then dared for kidnapping."

"You're saying his snatching a baby was just an escalation?" John gaped, "Who escalates from petty theft to kidnapping?"

"Those who are tired of the small prize and want to get something bigger." Talbot tapped the table with a finger, "I don't know why he chose the Grantham's baby but a man like him, with thoughts all geared toward greed and gain and driven by passion instead of solid reason, would seize an opportunity."

"Mary said that the door had been unlocked that night and they didn't know why." Anna frowned, "The nanny had been dismissed over something, she never said, and there was a bit of a family drama about it."

"Crime of opportunity then?" John turned to Talbot.

"I didn't study the case but I'd suspect so."

"How'd he deliver the ransom request or retrieve the money?"

"We followed the post he sent and there was a letter addressed to Lord Grantham's home with the particulars of payment needed." Talbot nodded at the unasked question on Anna and John's faces. "I did find a way to get ahold of the letter once the Yard had it."

"You snuck into the Yard?" John's eyes widened but Talbot hurried to soothe him.

"No, I bribed a clerk. Much easier than sneaking in anywhere." Talbot wiggled his fingers, "I believe in greasing palms more than slinking around."

"I'll keep that in mind." John narrowed his eyes at Talbot. "But what about delivery of the money?"

"Far as we can tell he collected that himself."

"What?" Anna's feet hit the floor in her haste to get closer to Talbot. "He dared cross the threshold of that house again?"

"Let it not be said that I hold any disdain for the upper class, they've all been rather marvelous on this trip, but they're not the type to notice the help by name or face unless they've a reason to."

"So it goes for all I think." John muttered and Talbot conceded the point.

"As I said, I've nothing against them but they'd never suspect someone like Green because they'd never imagine someone like that would have the nerve."

"Hence why they'd all be even more upset when they discovered the perpetrator." John pursed his lips, "Why did it take so long to find the baby?"

"My guess is that Green had the baby near the house and when the child died, for whatever reason, he just buried it in a shallow grave in the nearest field before he made his escape." Talbot let the air hang a moment, "Horrible as it may sound to be in his defense for even a moment, I'm convinced he never mean the child harm. It was a victim of his greed and stupidity."

"But then Green ran for it and your organization did nothing." Anna accused and Talbot held her gaze.

"We're more worried about the possible threat looming in Germany, Ms. Smith. The death of the future Sixth Earl of Grantham, while tragic and beyond the words I'd have to express, is not of national importance nor will it effect the running of this country should we be turning to war."

"And that concerns you more than the grieving parents and family?"

Talbot resumed his laidback position in his chair, "As I stated this afternoon, I do hope they're the ones who killed him. Had I known they'd planned any of it I'd have offered to drive the knife in myself but, as I also mentioned, I'd not risk the mission I've yet to accomplish to see that happen."

"I'm still confused on how Green even knew about the baby, or snuck into the house… or even how he managed any of it." John sighed, "There's too much about this whole thing that makes no sense."

"Then let me lend a machete to that intellectual thicket." Talbot leaned over the table, "Mr. Mason told me his former employer, or at least the man to whom he reported, was Mr. Carson. And Mr. Carson works for Lord Grantham."

John's jaw dropped as Talbot held his open hands up, "I guess that's an answered question as to how all these people are on this train at the same time. They're here for murder."


	11. The Madman of Bergerac

"That doesn't answer how Green knew about the baby or how to get into the house." Anna finally spoke, lips pursing as her voice edged with her simmering anger. "Not sure how helpful your particular machete was to that thicket."

"I didn't say it would cure that thicket and I've no answer for that." Talbot shrugged, "But it does answer how these people found Mr. Green."

"How does someone like him even escape through the world given the kind of man he is?" Anna folded her arms over her chest, "It's disgusting that no one noticed him or took the responsibility to arrest him for what he's done. What you know he's done."

"Slippery devils are everywhere." Talbot conceded, "And sometimes it's the weighing of two evils in it all."

"And he's supposed to be the lesser in it then?"

"Not sure I'm the one to ask when it comes to the weighing of the moral scales seeing as I wouldn't claim my compass to point due north."

"I can tell." Anna scoffed, "Not that you'd have a good answer for it anyway."

"I might actually have one." John held up a finger, hoping to dissipate the tension between Anna and Talbot. They silenced, their expressions indicating they wanted to take their feelings to fisticuffs if it came to it. Taking another beat to let them settle, and risking a look at the still scowling Anna, John cleared his throat, "In your… more clandestine work, Mr. Talbot, did you ever come across the case of the Madman?"

"I think I read it in the papers but I couldn't tell you what it was about or why it mattered." Talbot shrugged, "I'm sorry but the concerns of the immediate future lie beyond the borders of our nation for me."

"Do they now?" Anna ground out and John had to ignore her and draw Talbot's attention toward him as he spoke again.

"There was a man, hiding in plain sight, who strangled women and stabbed men to death in a town outside London."

"They caught him, yes?"

"Eventually."

Talbot frowned, "I don't think I like the sound of the way you just said eventually right there."

"The man they caught was deranged to be sure and guilty of some heinous crimes but he wasn't the real killer." John bit the inside of his cheek, "I caught the real perpetrator a year later and my Superintendent forced my silence since we couldn't let anyone know we'd hung a loose case around a very convenient neck."

"Classic move I've employed before."

"Hence your compass not pointing due north?" Anna bit out but Talbot ignored the barb, shaking his head at John.

"I'm not one for admitting this, since I usually prefer the upper hand in understanding all things, but I'm not following the purpose of this story."

"It was all a ruse. Just like everything everyone's told us so far. It's all been a drawn-out pantomime to keep up appearances that everyone's not worried about the disappearance of a body on this train." John took a breath, "Everyone knows that the Germans should've found the body and the fact they were questioned in search of him as a person instead of as a body has them all acting like business is going as usual when it's not."

"Then I'm guessing you're wondering who exactly you want to eliminate from the possible list of suspects?" Talbot whistled, "Very daring of you."

"Why would you say that?"

"I'm just considering the reality that we're trapped in a snowdrift and there's every possibility that a group willing to stab a man to death one at a time after considerable planning and forethought might actually contemplate tossing the three of us into that same drift to earn our silence."

"They're not the type to protect themselves with murder." Anna argued and Talbot only laughed a bit in return.

"But they're willing to murder for justice to be served. Keep that in mind."

"Those are two different mentalities."

"Hence my reference of the earlier case." John cut between them again, shooting both a glare. "We found a man we thought had the capacity for such gross violence and we prosecuted it under those circumstances."

"But he didn't have the intelligence for it?" Anna nodded, her eyes looking into a dark corner as if pulling a memory from her mind. "Someone who could hide in plain sight, coming out to kill on a pattern with that kind of precision, wouldn't be prone to the kind of violence you'd find in a deranged patient like the one you put away."

"Exactly." John snapped his fingers, "We're looking for the people with an axe to grind but we need to realize not all axes are ground the same way."

"I think they actually are." Talbot argued but silenced himself under the joined glares of Anna and John. "Sorry, please continue with your analysis."

"My theory is that there are people on this train who are, like ourselves, victims of circumstance and then those who are here because they planned to murder Mr. Green in his berth."

"I don't like the idea that they could murder us in our berths." Talbot muttered, immediately meeting Anna's narrowed eyes and exasperated sigh. "It's a valid worry for the three of us of the cabal that formed before we boarded."

"Like I said-" Anna started to argue but John stopped them both.

"I agree with Anna, I don't think they'd kill us."

"Even as we're seeking to discover their scheme and stashed the evidence of their actions in the freezer?"

"Even then." John sighed, "I'm wondering if perhaps I wouldn't have been better served leaving you at your word to have none of this investigation."

"Am I making it difficult?"

"Inordinately so."

"Good." Talbot leaned forward, "Because in my line of work there's the need to consistently poke holes in all plans. If we don't then the enemy will. We've got to be smarter, think faster, and plan farther ahead then they do. More to the point we've got to anticipate what they'd do in our position and what we should do in theirs. It's the only way we survive."

Anna sighed, "Sounds exhausting."

"It's how you get to be my age in the line of work I do." Talbot sat back, "But you're right, I don't think they'll kill us. I do think that the conductor, while a very good man, won't hold out against their questioning for long. Neither would Mr. Mason since his former employers are on this train and he's the one they'd seek out for information."

"Just like we did."

Talbot nodded at John's statement, "They wouldn't think of it first because while they know there's a body they're not sure what happened to it but they'll start to ask questions. Those questions that the conductor won't have adequate lies ready as answers for and the kind that Mr. Mason won't hesitate to answer."

"Because the conductor's too good a person to be an expert at lying and because Mr. Mason wouldn't have the power to." Anna used her fingers like a claw through her hair. "And poor Alfred. If the cook on this train starts pressing about the freezer and anyone else puts the pieces together we're not going about this quietly."

"It's the risk we take with another two days on this train." John put his fingers together, spreading them slightly so he could rest his chin on the tips. "We can't let it dissolve into panic."

"The last thing we need is the German police snooping another round closer." Talbot noted and Anna's tone softened in her response to him.

"Some of us have a bit more to hide?"

"We're all in on that secret now, Ms. Smith, and if they know you know then they'll ask you too."

"Then let's contain the one problem to keep the other to ourselves." John rubbed a hand over his face. "The police will eventually find the body. If not the Germans then the police when we reach Calais. We'll have to open the freezer and tell them something."

"You're going to ask French police to believe that ten people of relative means took the trouble to board a train in Vienna just to murder someone?" Talbot scoffed, "I don't give the French enough credit to believe that story. I don't give them much credit about anything except their food, really, but this isn't something they'll believe. And the Germans would be worse."

"How would they be worse?"

"They'd just arrest everyone and pick the victim they liked best." Talbot took a moment, "Probably that dandy fellow traveling with the Crawley family."

John scrunched his face, "Dandy?"

"He means Thomas." Anna filled in, "And it's a valid concern but we've got a responsibility to protect everyone on this train."

"You mean to protect killers on this train?" Talbot waited a moment before standing, "As I said before, I think we should let it be. Keep to the stories we told the German police that we think Mr. Green decided to escape his enemies or whatnot by taking his chances in the snow."

"And the French police?" Anna folded her arms over her chest, "When we have to open the freezer and the body we told the German police was lost to the snow is preserved there with Mr. Bates handcuffs keeping him inside?"

"Then we tell them that he was killed by enemies who then ran into the snow. It's a simple story."

"The kind you use in your work?" John pressed and Talbot rolled his eyes.

"Take whatever moral high ground you like, Mr. Bates, but you and I work in very different professions. Lies like this aren't new to me and the death of this man hasn't cost me any sleep yet and won't in the future either."

"And the thought that these people all gathered to kill someone in one place?"

Talbot shrugged, "Ms. Smith said it well, justice was served."

"And that's enough for you?" John stood as well and Talbot just gave an exasperated sigh. "It's enough to leave it like this?"

"For me, yes. A bad man is dead and the people who did it can now be at peace. Or whatever fraction of it they might find now." Talbot nodded to them both, "I bid you both a very early morning and suggest we make our way back to our respective cabins to take whatever is left of this night and enjoy it sleeping."

Talbot left and John deflated back to his chair. Anna covered his hand with hers and they sat in silence a moment as John shook his head. She frowned and he took a breath to explain.

"As much as his logic is sound-"

"In a way." Anna snorted and John lifted a shoulder to concede her point.

"The people on this train took their actions and now we're left to either hang the case around the neck of a nonexistent singular killer to find the real one."

"I don't know if I could cast the lot to hang them all." Anna admitted, "I still can't wrap my head around the idea that any of them could do it at all."

"When people are driven to the edge what they'll do can surprise you."

"Then shouldn't they have the right to seek the path back from the edge?"

"When it literally goes through the chest of another man I think their agency in deciding to follow through on the path to healing might be a bit skewed." John heaved a breath, "But Mr. Talbot did have one point I think we should give him."

"Which one?"

"The one where he suggested we go back to sleep." John stood again, extending a hand to Anna, "Care to join me?"

"I'd be honored." Anna lifted herself to stand with him, "But tomorrow we're going to start eliminating suspects."

"I think we could start first with those on the periphery of this incident."

"And, other than ourselves, who might they be?"

John ticked off on his fingers, "Blake, Gillingham, Thomas, O'Brien, and the Carsons… maybe."

"Maybe?"

"We know Mr. Carson was Mr. Mason's former employer and that could be the extent of the connection but we also found the address Mr. Mason used for the other end of his mysterious correspondence belonged to Mr. Gillingham."

"Therefore everyone's a bit more knotted into this particular spider's web than we originally thought?"

John nodded, leading them back to their berth, "Unfortunately."

"Then we'll simply have to rely on an old Irish proverb." Anna smiled at John's confused frown, "The one that says 'a good laugh and a long sleep are the two best cures for anything'."

"Not sure it applies to murder."

"Well I've laughed with you and we're going to sleep so I'd say it's been curing quite a bit for me."

"Has it now?" John grinned, "And what did you need curing of?"

"Loneliness, lack of love, and possibly a bit of self-doubt."

John grew serious, "And you've found the cure to all those things?"

"Of course I have," Anna tugged at his hand, drawing him into the berth. "I found them in you."


	12. The Nine Tailors

John woke the next morning and used the few moments he had to jot down some notes on his pad. The scratching barely disturbed Anna, who only responded to the knock on the door alerting them to breakfast, and John smiled when she groaned. As she sat up the sheets and blankets pooled about her waist and John bit at his jaw to stop himself staring.

Anna caught sight of his gaze and smiled, "You're more than welcome to look and appreciate Mr. Bates."

"If I do that then we'll miss breakfast."

"And our opportunity to interrogate our Misters Gillingham and Blake yes?" Anna climbed from the bed, working into the shared water closet where she closed the door before John heard water coming from the small faucet in the space.

"When they're a bit more bleary eyed then they'd be later." John consulted his notes before walking to the door to speak through it and reduce the risk of anyone passing in the corridor overhearing. "I thought you'd like to speak to Mr. Blake and I'd talk to Mr. Gillingham."

"Or," Anna pushed the door open, drying her hair with a small towel. "We could speak to them together. Otherwise it might be suspicious."

"It'll be suspicious anyway."

"After Lord Grantham's invitation yesterday for all of us to get to know one another better?" Anna went through the water closet to her side, picking out clothing as John closed the door to wash himself. "I would think everyone who didn't mind a bit of sharing yesterday might be inclined to repeat the same hospitality today."

"Except your Lady Mary."

"She's never really been the hospitable type." Anna conceded and rapped her knuckles on the door. "How long will you be?"

"Almost finished." John hurried to finish and let the door open for her as he wrapped a towel over himself to dry while he sorted through his own clothing. "I'm not sure everyone won't realize what we're doing anyway."

"Like I said yesterday," Anna pulled her hair back, flicking her gaze at him for a moment, "We could be in a better position to find out who isn't involved by making everyone anxious."

"Anxious in a snowdrift?" John buttoned up his shirt before tucking it into his trousers. "I might be on Mr. Talbot's side when it comes to us not blaring out our intentions at the risk that we might end up outside this train."

"Then we'll try to stay on the side of delicacy." Anna checked herself over in the mirror before leaning on the doorway, "I'll follow your lead."

"That's very kind of you." John pulled his tie tight and reached for his jacket. "Ready for breakfast?"

"I think I'm more ready for tea but I'll enjoy breakfast all the same." Anna trailed John to the door and took the lead when he held the door open.

They joined the queue for the dining car and found two open seats at a table where Blake and Gillingham were already speaking while managing their tea. Both men looked up as John drew a chair out for Anna and took one for himself. After only a moment of silence Blake extended his hand to John first and then to Anna before letting Gillingham take his own turn.

"Pleasure to meet you both." John shifted in his chair, getting comfortable. "I do hope you don't mind us taking these chairs."

"They weren't being saved for anyone." Blake leaned back as Alfred left a plate in front of him and took his knife to spread butter over the scone on the plate. "And I think we could all use to get to know some new faces."

"He's already tired of mine." Gillingham winked at Anna, "It's what happens when you travel together and then choose the same berth."

"You're bunk mates?" Anna allowed her own plate to reach the table and held up her cup when Alfred brought the teapot around.

"We thought it would be easier." Blake shrugged, "I guess we didn't factor the idea that we'd be spending quite so much time in such close quarters to one another."

"I guess it's the risk we all take when on board the same train." John cut into his breakfast. "I don't suppose either of you's enough the company of anyone else on this train thus far whose company you'd recommend to us?"

"We did a round of cards yesterday with that Mr. Talbot over at a table with the Dowager and Mrs. Crawley." Gillingham made a face, "He seemed good enough company but he's rather evasive."

"The Dowager's not much better but, then again, she's what I'd expect from the Old Guard of the Crawley household." Blake stopped when he noted Anna and John's gaze. "I'm acquainted with the family and had a few run-ins with her at social functions. Very acerbic wit and a tongue sharper than any knife I've ever used."

"The risk of age and privilege allowed to develop unchecked." Anna shrugged, "I practically grew up in that house so I know what you mean. A little of The Dowager Countess of Grantham goes quite a long way."

"A little bit of Lady Mary Crawley goes a long way as well." Gillingham admitted, setting down his utensils. "I understand she's pregnant but I think yesterday's outburst at lunch was not what I expected in terms of the future Countess of Grantham."

"Are you only socially acquainted with them as well?" John pressed, swallowing down his bacon.

Gillingham made a face, "We knew one another more as children. When my family moved to London before the war I lost contact with them. What I do know is I was surprised when they extended me an invitation to a house part they threw some time ago."

"Why'd the invitation surprise you?" Anna sipped at her tea, not meeting Gillingham's eyes until the last moment.

"Because, as I said, we hadn't spoken in years."

"I think they just needed to fill spots at card tables because they invited me as well." Blake laughed before taking a cut of his scone, "They were very polite when I had to decline the invitation and never asked again."

"Rejection comes hard for Lady Mary Crawley." Gillingham sucked the inside of his cheek, "Then again, it might've been that afterward the heir was kidnapped."

"What a horrible coincidence." Anna covered her mouth with a hand.

Blake nodded, "It's one thing to be all over the papers. It's another when you know the names in the papers."

John narrowed his eyes, "What do you know of it?"

"I was in Yorkshire at the time, doing some surveys and studies for the Government, when the news broke. I offered whatever services I could but there was nothing to be done." Blake shuddered, "I was on the next estate over when they found the body of the boy."

"I think the worst things happen to the best people." Gillingham muttered, buttering his own scone with a bit more energy than was strictly necessary. "At the time I thought the worst thing in my life was that Green left my employ."

John felt his blood run cold and Anna's hand grip his under the table. But Blake and Gillingham took no notice as Blake spoke. "I thought you didn't even like him."

"I didn't really but he left without notice. It's one thing to dismiss someone for a poor attitude or a bad relationship but the fellow just ran off. The professionalism-"

"Or lack thereof," Blake supplied.

"Yes, the lack thereof was astounding." Gillingham shrugged, "But, as I said, it wasn't time to bemoan the loss of someone to button a few buttons to brush a dinner jacket when someone's just lost their son."

"I'm sorry," John cut in, "What did you say the name of the man who left your employ was?"

Gillingham frowned, "Why?"

"I'm a detective with the Yard and we were working a case with a man, London native, who slipped our net in Yorkshire about the time of the Crawley child killing and I thought it was an odd coincidence."

"Green, Alex Green." Gillingham waited, "How'd you know he was a London native?"

"You said your family moved to London and I'll assume you hired help from your vicinity, for convenience."

"I did." Gillingham shrugged a shoulder, "I guess the logic there isn't something I'd considered before."

"I didn't know your old valet was wanted by the police." Blake looked at John, "What did you want him for?"

"He was suspected as the perpetrator in a few rape cases filed with the Yard." John admitted and noted the widening in both men's eyes.

"You can't be serious."

"Unfortunately I am." John cleared his throat, "And perhaps the most unfortunate part of it all is that he then evaded us in London before fleeing the country. I don't suppose you know where he'd go?"

Gillingham puffed out air, "I haven't the foggiest. It's the most awkward admission when you realize your valet knows more about you and your personal endeavors than you do about his but it's the truth."

"But if you saw him again, you could recognize him?"

"I'd hope so. The man undressed me at night and dressed me in the morning. I'd hope I'd recognize his face."

"Then did you recognize the man they say went missing on this train?"

Gillingham shook his head, "Can't say I ever got a look at him. With all the chaos of a train platform I didn't and then I didn't meet anyone beyond my table the night they say he vanished off the train."

"Then would you mind coming with me to see something?" John waited, watching Blake and Gillingham exchange confused looks. "It's not what you may think."

"We're thinking quite a lot." Blake pointed a finger at John, "Who are you?"

"My name's John Bates and I'm a detective with the Yard in London and I know where Mr. Green is."

"Then shouldn't you tell the German police?"

"That would be a mistake." Anna ventured, "Seeing as the man is dead and his body is currently in a freezer."

"What?" Blake tried to say but Gillingham interrupted him.

"What makes you think this is the same Green who left my service? I'll admit it's not a very common name but it's not uncommon either."

"Then you can tell us if you recognize his face and we rule you out as a suspect in his murder."

"You don't have to," Blake warned, "As much as I respect an officer of the Yard you've no authority here."

"True but I doubt you want me to give that authority to a brace of police willing to hang whomever they please over this if they knew." John waited, the moment of their standoff weighing the table between them.

Gillingham frowned, shot a look to Blake, and then nodded. "Show me the body and I can tell you if I know him."

"Probably best to wait until after the breakfast rush is through, so as to avoid a scene." Anna warned, going back to her food. "And I'd hate to waste the efforts of the cook."

"Where is the body?" Blake pressed, "And why hide it?"

"Because a dead body on a train passing through Germany wouldn't be ideal for anyone and we'd rather figure out who killed him without putting everyone behind bars." John tucked into his own food, "Besides, if our current suspicions are correct there are multiple assailants and we'd like to rule the two of you out as any of them."

"I'm sure the fact that our alibis are joined doesn't help." Blake sighed, "What I can tell you, having met Gillingham's former man once, is that if he was murdered and it is him in the freezer I very much doubt he was an innocent."

"We're of the same position that whomever did kill him wanted to extract a form of justice but we're still under the imperative to find out."

Blake turned to Anna, "Who's imperative? And why not let the body be found?"

"Because if we're questioning everyone then it's not an interrogation and if the body was found we'd all be in trouble." John cut in, "And the imperative is the behest of the conductor."

"Man's been fidgety the last two days." Blake conceded, "But why question us about a relationship with the Crawleys? What've they got with Gillingham's man?"

"That's the thing." John winced, "We believe, based on solid information from a source we trust, that he was the one responsible for the death of the Sixth Earl of Grantham."

Gillingham's mouth dropped and he recovered only in time to bring his napkin up to catch his cough. "I might be sick."

"Why?" Anna narrowed her eyes.

"Because I took Green with me to that house party. They were celebrating the birth of the Sixth Earl. If Green's the one who did it then I was his unwitting accomplice."

"That baby's death wouldn't be on you." John assured, "We all suffer for our own sins."

"I need to see that body right now." Gillingham put down his napkin, "I can't eat or do anything else until I know."

John nodded at him and then turned to Anna, "I should take him alone, if that's alright."

"It'd be more suspicious if I didn't keep Mr. Blake here company." She turned to him as John and Gillingham left their seats. "So, I heard from someone you sing opera in your spare time."

John led Gillingham to the freezer, whispering to Alfred to keep everyone else away, and unlocked the cuffs. He pulled the door wide and shivered with Gillingham at the blast of cold air. The other man ducked his head in but swiftly withdrew to nod.

"That's him. Alex Green, my former valet."

John closed the freezer door, locking it with the cuffs again, and faced Gillingham. "Your address was used as a drop for correspondence tracking Mr. Green's movements through the continent for the last year. Why would your former valet's now former valet be informing you of his whereabouts?"

"Who was his former valet?"

"Mr. William Mason, also on this train."

Gillingham shook his head, "I never received anything from a Mr. Mason."

"It was sent to your house in London." John extracted the letter and showed it to Gillingham. "Unless Lord Grantham was wrong and this isn't your address."

"It is mine, that's correct." Gillingham squinted at the script and then closed his eyes as if trying to remember something. "I do recognize this hand though."

"But not in letters addressed to you?"

"They were stacked with letters for Lady Mary Crawley."

John frowned, "I thought you weren't close with her."

"I'm not… anymore." Gillingham cringed, "It's awkward to admit but we had a tryst some time ago. Before either of us were married and if anyone found out it'd ruin us both, even now. She's faced her own scandal in that regard and I'd rather not bring a dark cloud over the birth of the Eighth Earl of Grantham."

"I'm the soul of discretion in that." John assured him, "But why would she use your house in London for her correspondence?"

"She and her husband live in London, at Grantham House, and she told me she was planning a surprise for him. She didn't want to risk him getting word of it and requested I take some letters at my house between Piccadilly and Savoy."

"And you did?"

Gillingham nodded, "She told me it was a sale she wanted to come through for his birthday and I never asked for more than that."

"And Mr. Green?" John rapped his knuckle on the freezer door. "What else do you know about him?"

"He disappeared shortly after that house party and I never saw him again." Gillingham swallowed, "Until now, that is."

"Thank you for your help Mr. Gillingham." John waited a beat, "And I must confess that I lied to you. We weren't looking for him in York."

"You…" Gillingham closed his eyes as realization dawned, "You needed me to give you information."

"We're trying to find out who killed him."

"Then I'd look no further than the Crawleys and stop your investigation right here. Leave the dead man be and move on."

"You think they did it?"

"If Lady Mary Crawley had the slightest inkling that the man you're preserving in that freezer was responsible for her parents' greatest loss I'd bet everything I own she'd claw the heart out of the man responsible with her own hands." Gillingham pointed to the freezer, "The fact he was only stabbed to death speaks of a restraint to their actions."

"And you'd have me leave this case alone?"

"Mr. Bates," Gillingham put up a hand, "I respect what you're trying to do but I also believe that man deserved what he got. I didn't like him as my valet, that's true, but if he did even half of what you say then I'd have joined them in their venture if they'd asked me."

"They already did."

"Then I wish I'd known the real reason when they did ask. I'd have given more to this cause. The sorry fact is that I'm only sorry I ever hired the man or had anything to do with enabling his actions." Gillingham nodded at him. "Good day Mr. Bates."

John watched Gillingham go, the weight bearing down on his chest. Alfred appeared from around the corner, "Everything alright sir?"

"No, nothing's alright." John nodded at him, "But unfortunately I don't think it's something you can help me solve."


	13. In Cold Blood

Returning to the table, John hoped the conversation would lead to more information and perhaps more satisfying turns. Instead he was disappointed as Gillingham had retired to his berth, overly affected by what he saw, and Blake soon joined him. With only the silence and one another for company, John and Anna returned to his cabin to confer.

He sat heavily on his bed, Anna leaning on the wall across from him, and relayed everything he learned to her. To her credit, Anna remained silent until he finished. The last words left his mouth and John rested his head in his hands with a sigh.

"They're not guilty."

"I would've thought us eliminating two potential suspects off our list would bring a little more joy to your expression."

"It should, shouldn't it?" John shook his head, gripping the back of his neck with both hands, "And in other situations it might but I'm running into the same problem."

"What's that?"

"They've got no interest in helping us find out who is."

"Seems the ever repeating pattern with this case." Anna muttered, stretching her neck before pacing the short way to the small table. "But that's not what's bothering you, is it?"

"It's more that they don't seem to care about justice."

"You think they don't care about justice?"

"If they did they'd be more willing to help solve this case."

"Or maybe because they care about justice they won't help."

John raised his head, "What do you mean?"

Anna spoke softly her next words coming after a heavy silence. "They all believe Green got what he deserved and that justice was served. For that matter, so do I."

"You think the dead man in the freezer got justice? The man who died from ten stab wounds after someone drugged him?"

"Would he be less dead if he were hung back in England?"

"It'd be after a trial by a jury with a judge to pass sentence because the people believed his guilt."

"They believed his guilt."

"We've had this conversation before."

"I know." Anna bit at her lip, "It's just…"

"Just what?" John frowned and Anna raised her head to meet his gaze.

"What if we just told everyone the same story we told the Germans?"

"Excuse me?"

"We tell them that the killer escaped the train."

"Are you joining Mr. Talbot's side in this?"

Anna shrugged, "He had a point and the longer I dwell on it the more sound his thinking is. The killer's left the train."

"That's not true."

"But it is, John."

"Anna, we know that person is here." John stopped himself, "Or, more accurately, that those people are still here."

"And Mr. Green deserved what he got." Anna leaned forward, "Your job is to ensure justice is served. Hasn't it been?"

"Revenge isn't justice, Anna. That man should have been tried for his crimes."

"They tried once and he vanished, John." Anna put a hand forward, "The killer, or the spirit of their actions, has passed. It left when he died and they'll never do it again."

"They can't do what they did a first time. The system isn't built to give power to the vigilante but to the courts. To try people by a jury of their peers."

"And a jury is made up of eight to twelve men, John. Those people decide the fate of the guilty by listing their crimes and then weighing it in balance. If anyone knows his crimes it's the people on this train and they weighed them in balance for enough time." She took a breath, "There were ten wounds. That's a jury that found him guilty of his crimes and exacted justice on him."

"They executed him Anna."

"They did no differently than a judge in England would except they all buried the knife somewhere in his body instead of hanging him."

"It's not right, Anna."

"If that's what you think."

"It is."

"Then I won't trouble you any further." Anna nodded, moving to leave but John grabbed her hand. "What is it?"

"Where are you going?"

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

Anna sat down next to him, "I thought-"

"Because I disagreed with you that I'd want you to leave?"

"Yes."

"No," John shook his head, shifting on the bed so he could hold her. "I don't ever want you to leave."

"This cabin or your side?" She smiled and he returned it.

"Either… or both."

"Eventually we will have to leave the cabin."

"I know but…" John took a breath, "I don't entirely disagree with you. The more I find out about this dead man the more I want him to stay in that freezer and have the world forget about him. But justice is blind and the sword is sharp on both ends."

"You're saying that their justice was served and now it's got to be served on them?"

"Unfortunately."

Anna nodded, resting her forehead on her shoulder. "I just think about that family, going into the nursery and finding their son missing. Searching the house, worrying themselves to a tizzy, and then getting that letter."

"It's got to hurt more since you know them."

"It does." Anna put a hand over her heart, pushing back to better take in John. "When you imagine it could've been your child and then…"

"Do you want children?"

"I always have." There was another moment of silence, noises from the corridor drifting toward them as they sat close to one another. "Do you?"

"I did once, when I was first married." John bit at the back of his jaw, vision clouding a moment. "But then… Vera never wanted children and I found out she'd… it didn't work."

"Did she get rid of one?"

"She found a way to miscarry the one child we ever had." John sniffed, wiping at his eyes a moment before Anna's more gentle fingers removed the tears. "I was devastated and that's when she told me she never wanted a child."

"But she was unfaithful. Surely there were consequences to that."

"There were," John agreed, swallowing to cover the cracks in his voice. "But they were the kind of gifts you don't share with your friends."

"Oh," Anna quieted, "Is that how you divorced her?"

"I proved, through a doctor, that I wasn't the one who gave her the VDs and with the other evidence I had of her infidelity I got the court to grant me a divorce."

"But at the cost of your happiness?"

"We were never happy together and the horrible truth is we never could be."

Anna's voice had gone soft again, her shoes dropping to the floor as she pulled her feet onto the bed, "Why not?"

"When you realize that all you had in common with someone was the desire to drink and delve into the black oblivion that follows together… the cold light of day helps you realize you made a mistake."

"Did she drive you to drink?"

"We drove one another to drink." John gave a bitter laugh, "We could throw barbs at one another for hours as we swirled the edges of consciousness together. And then, if we became physical, it was all teeth and nails. There wasn't anything to it but that animalistic drive that leaves people empty."

When Anna responded to it her voice was barely a whisper, "Did you ever love her?"

"I thought I did but then I knew it was a lie. A lie I told myself to sleep past all those feelings and emotions that rose up when I knew I chose incorrectly."

"And now?"

John's face clouded, "How do you mean?"

"Do you think you chose better with me?"

"I think I couldn't chose better than you." John managed a sheepish grin, "Though we've only known one another three days and we've had more romantic encounters than I usually do with women I've known in that many years."

"Then I'll take the compliment in that." Anna stroked her fingers over his cheek. "I've never had someone who respected me like you do."

"Is that why you stayed?"

"I stayed because you wanted me to stay." Anna withdrew her hand, "But I don't know if I can help with this case any longer."

"Why not?"

"Because we can't investigate this case if you think, even for a moment, I'm not helping you."

"Why would I think that?"

"I didn't tell you that I realized Mary was probably the one who dosed the tea with Barbital."

"I thought about that."

Anna's eyes widened, "You did?"

"She mentioned going to get the tea and seeing the scene in the corridor. It didn't take a genius to realize that she took the time to dose his peculiar tea with the Barbital to help him sleep so they could kill him."

"You think Mary helped?"

"Lady Mary has the unfortunate hormonal reactions of a pregnant woman. That means she's prone to two instincts." John held up two fingers, lowering them one at a time. "First, she's protecting her unborn child and that inspires the maternal instinct. Second, she's defending the honor of her family and that kind of revenge gives one the strength to plunge a knife deep."

"It might also be to her disadvantage that she's been waspish since we left."

"I attribute that to carrying around a child who probably kicks and moves when she wants nothing but sleep." John closed his eyes, "It's why I understand their motive to kill Green."

"You do?"

"They're trying to assuage their pain. As you said, they've had a long time to think about it, to plan this, to suffer their grief. Eventually that runs its course and they believe his death will allow them the peace they need."

"But it won't?"

John shook his head, "Nothing heals that pain. They'll feel justified, except for the nerves they possibly have at the moment, but otherwise the pain'll still be there. They lost a child and there's no replacing him."

"What about the nerves?" Anna hurried to explain, "Once they tall took their turn in stabbing the man to death, what was their plan."

"How do you mean?"

"If they're wondering what happened to his body, knowing someone should've found it but the Germans only asked about him being missing, what was their plan?"

"You think they had one?"

"If it'd been me I would've tipped him out a window once I finished him off and then had a few people swear to seeing him on a platform and never reentering the train but no one did that. They just left the body there."

"Maybe they had plans to remove it at the next station but when the train hit the snow bank they weren't expecting to wait." John sniffed, sitting back on the bed and leaving his shoes to drop to the floor as well. "But you're right, for all the fore planning the rest of this seems a bit underdone."

"Why not just poison him? It's easy enough to hide since there's no forensic unit to tell the difference and all you would need to say is that he died of something simple, like a weak heart."

"There's no satisfaction in poisoning someone."

"No?"

"When you're looking for revenge you want to feel it when they die." John rested his head back against the wall. "There's no good answer for what they planned and, at this point, it hardly matters. Our concerns lie with how to answer the inevitable question of what he's doing in the freezer and how he got in the shape he's in."

"I assume you're not talking about the freezer itself because we'll have to answer to that."

"I meant about who stabbed him to death." John rubbed a hand over his face. "This whole thing… it feels wrong."

"What?"

"I thought I was doing the right thing, answer Mr. Moseley's request to help solve this murder but, like I said, the more I find out about him I wish I'd left it all as it was. I wish I'd taken his offer and protected him because I could've saved ten people feeling the guilt running through them right now."

"You wouldn't want to save Green?"

"I don't care about Green." John faced Anna, "I care about those people who have to answer for his death, no matter how justified, to not only themselves but also to the courts and to whatever gods they worship. That's what I care about."

"Is that all you care about?"

"And you."

Anna's hand on his face guided his lips to meet hers ever so slowly. As slowly as she unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt, helping him slide them all free to drop in recognizable thumps on the floor. His larger hands fumbled slightly on her finer buttons but eventually managed to free her skin to his gaze.

With concentrated lips and focus, John traced the contours of her bones and muscles from her jaw to her collar to the line of fabric holding her breasts steady. But with his tongue and gentle caresses, it proved no more a barrier to him than a way to tease her to greater heights. Dragging the laced fabric over her, tugging it with his teeth, and sucking at her nipples to send Anna's fingers raking through his hair to grip and steer.

Her skirt bunched under them and Anna hurried to free herself of it with the one hand she risked away from his head. John stayed occupied at her breasts, freeing them from their confines to lay his kisses over the exposed skin. The soft cries of pleasure matched the shift in Anna's legs and hips when John bit, tugged, teased, and laved over her breasts to leave her panting under him.

The clink of his belt and the swift snap of button before the slide of his zipper had them both struggling to free John of his trousers. When they caught slightly they laughed softly, risking a moment to finally free themselves of the last traces of their clothing, and returned to their kisses with a bit more lightness to them. The same lightness that guided John's lips lower over Anna's body.

She worked her way over the bed, hand flailing toward the door to lock it, and then dug her nails into John's shoulders and scalp when he licked over her folds. It only took the nudge of his shoulders to spread her legs wider so his fingers and tongue could leave her gasping for air. And only a few minutes more of suckling and sliding to let a shriek rip through Anna.

John massaged her back from her high, tempted to send her over the edge again before he continued. With a grin he did just that. Anna's fluttering breaths and the twitch of her trembling thighs led to the furrows she scratched over his skin to match the pleasure he felt of her clenching inner muscles wrapping his tongue and fingers. In less time than the first, John withdrew his fingers from her spasming inner walls and laid a kiss on the bundle of nerves he finished tending before sliding forward to rest his arousal on her weeping folds.

Anna met his eyes, hazy and dazed while they blinked furiously to bring her back to reality. John pecked at her lips to encourage her back to the moment and her weak arms wrapped him closer to her. When her hips finally lifted, responding to the rolling glide of his hips teasing his erection closer to her, John thrust forward.

Both paused, breathing deeply with the acclimation of her body tight around his, and basked in the moment. Anna's legs tightened over John's hips, one of her heels digging into the skin of his ass to match the determined grip of her hand in the same place. John choked a moment and immediately plunged forward again to drive as deeply as he could.

Soon they worked into a rhythm, the bed under them creaking slightly as John gripped the edge of the frame, and the sensation at the base of his spine built. He worked his fingers between them, trying to press and rub Anna back toward the edge with him. She, however, already lifted her hips and tugged him closer with force to find her own pleasure.

When her tongue snaked around his and she cried out into their kiss, John let go. His finesse and moderation lost to the feel of lips, legs, and luxury washing over him. A final drive left him finished and they just lay there a moment while they tried to breathe normally again.

Eventually they rolled, Anna slotting herself at John's side, and filled the room with the sound of their steady breathing to match the scent of sex. John stared at the ceiling above him and let out a sigh. "I wish we could go back to when this was all we expected to have happen to us on this train."

"I wasn't even expecting this." Anna admitted. "I couldn't have imagined it."

"Me either, if I'm being honest."

"I guess we've got to take the bad with the good."

"If only the bad wasn't the kind that has me questioning if it really was the good."

"If only." Anna breathed over his skin, "We'll figure out what to do."

"I hope so." John hugged her closer. "I do hope so."


	14. In the Name of the Rose

"Why did you become a crime reporter?" John tangled his fingers with hers, Anna's head resting on his chest while his other fingers ran through her hair.

"I told you, I wanted to tell people about how life really was but also that there were people who could help them."

"I remember you telling me how you'd been inspired by American journalist women. However," John shifted enough to see the top of her head, noting Anna's hitch in breathing. "Was that all?"

"No," Her head stayed in position, keeping her focus on the wall.

"But it's what you told everyone else, isn't it?"

Anna nodded against his skin, her fingers loosening their grip on his hand and adjusting her position to look at him. "I didn't want to tell them all the truth because I didn't need their pity."

"Pity for what?" John pushed himself to sit up and look at her. "Why would anyone need to pity you?"

Anna crumpled the sheets between her hands, twisting them for another minute before facing John. "Because I watched my friend die in front of me and there was nothing I could do."

"What are you talking about?"

"When I was at University there was a woman working with one of the charity organizations I covered for my journalism reading. I met her at a function I attended and we got on so we continued to stay in contact. In my last year we were walking back from an event and…"

"What happened?" Her lips quivered and John put a hand to her face, "You don't have to tell me if you don't-"

"I need to," She managed a shaky breath, "Rose would've wanted me to."

"Was that her name?"

"Rose MacClare… or, it was until she got married. Then it was Aldridge but that's neither here nor there now since she's no longer with us and neither is her husband."

"Did he do it?"

"Atticus?" Anna's head could not have shaken in a more violent negative if she tried. "He adored her. Everyone could see it."

"Then how is he no longer 'with us', as you put it?"

"Because Atticus killed himself shortly after Rose's death." Anna swallowed so heavily it echoed around the room, "He couldn't live without her and he couldn't live with the guilt."

"You said he was innocent."

"The guilt of not knowing who did it and having no way to catch them."

John quieted, "They never found Rose's killer?"

Anna shook her head far more slowly this time. "The police had no leads and eventually had to rule it all as a random act of violence."

"Like Green taking the Sixth Earl of Grantham for a moment of profit."

"In a way."

"In a way?"

"Rose wasn't missing anything and she was the daughter of a Marquess. She had means and she had money. That was why she was on the board for the charity. She was their chief patron and managed to find all the other funding they needed to keep the organization solvent."

"What about after her death?"

"They were still solvent." Anna managed a smile, "Rose and Atticus had one child, Victoria, who inherited the vast fortune of both her parents but Rose arranged for an endowment to go to the organization."

"Then the police ruled out foul play?"

"It wasn't about money, if that's what you mean."

John bit the inside of his cheek, "Why didn't Atticus stay alive for his daughter?"

"I asked myself that same question but the only answer I could find was that he couldn't bear to look at his daughter or be separated from his wife."

"Seems a bit selfish."

"I think people don't always have the perspective they need when they're buried in grief." Anna adjusted on the bed, snorting to herself, "I wonder what everyone else thinks of us."

"Why?"

"We ask them questions, join everyone at group meals, and then sneak off to odd places alone?" Anna managed a sly smile, "They must be thinking some rather salacious things."

"I don't care what they think as long as I know what you think." John interlaced their fingers. "What was it about Rose's death that made you want to report on crime?"

"I had this notion, think what you will of it, that I could help in some way if people were aware of the dangers and the efforts."

"Of the police?"

Anna nodded, "So often we think they're not on our side and I wondered, for a few years after Rose died, if maybe the reason the police never found anything was because no one felt safe telling them. They'd heard all the horrible stories of beatings and thuggish activity from men in the uniform so they withdrew when the time came to help them."

"Because they didn't see the police as being a force to help them in return?" John sighed at Anna's indication of affirmation. "It's the way of things. It only takes a few bad apples to spoil the lot."

"I wanted to give the people I knew a better image. One to stop deaths like Rose's from ever happening again if I could."

"That's very noble of you." John massaged his other hand at the back of his neck. "But I think it was about more than just what people didn't report to the police that they saw."

"How do you mean?"

"You said Rose worked as the head of a charity, established an endowment for it, but that you believed her murder wasn't about money."

"She wasn't robbed."

"There is always a motive." John folded his legs under him, "As I'm sure policemen have told you before, those motives guide all the decisions we make."

"You don't think it was just a crime of opportunity?"

"If she wasn't robbed and there wasn't any money given to someone else then I'd think not." John pursed his lips, "What was the charity?"

"It was for Russian refugees still trying to escape the Bolsheviks. The aristocrats made their way to England but there were others who followed and she worked to get them all jobs, homes, and English tutors if need be so they could restart their lives here."

"Was that the event you attended?"

"It was a party for those who had transitioned to life. They were there to provide support for the latest arrivals and give the aid they could. Not many of them were in a position to do more than speak Russian to those longing for the mother tongue but it was enough for them."

"And it could've been enough for others."

Anna frowned, "What do you mean?"

"There are quite a few people who held no love for the Russian aristocracy and even less for their status as refugees." John shrugged, "Perhaps it was someone making a statement."

"I don't recall the killer saying anything."

"Anna," John tightened his hold on her fingers, "If it's not too painful, could you tell me exactly how it happened?"

She did not speak immediately but eventually her voice whispered out, gathering strength as she went. "We left the meeting, helping ensure everyone reorganized the room since we rented the space, and started back along the alley."

"Alley?"

"It was in York and the charity thought a larger, lighter space was a bit out of budget but they found an old church willing to allow us the use of their basement."

"So you left through an alley?"

"It was the fastest way back to the train station. Rose needed to get home to Victoria and Atticus would've been out of his mind with worry if she'd missed her train." Anna gave a bitter, breathy laugh. "She missed the train all the same."

"You didn't know she would."

"Do you know that feeling, at the back of your neck, when you walk somewhere or see someone and it puts you edge?" Anna met his gaze, "That feeling you can't explain but you have deep in your chest that sets all the hair on yours arms standing straight up?"

"I had it when Green spoke to us the first night."

"I had that knot in my stomach and I couldn't explain why so I didn't say anything."

"Anna," John put his free hand to her cheek, forcing the eyes that threatened to falter to meet his. "The evil actions of another are not your fault."

"I saw the shadow John and I froze. I watched that man grab her and stab my friend and I never said I word. I couldn't even scream for help until Rose was in my arms, bleeding out in that alley." Tears escaped to run rivulets down her cheeks. "I couldn't save her, John."

"It's alright." John pulled Anna to him, holding her close as she cried. "It's alright Anna. We've all had those moments."

"That can't be true," She pushed back to look at him, "Not you."

"Why do you think it took me so long to escape my marriage?" John dropped her gaze, "I was a coward and I couldn't face the truth I knew."

"What if I could've saved her John? What if…" Anna heaved a shuddering breath, "What if I could've saved them both?"

"Or ended up dead with them." John shook his head, "You didn't let Rose die alone, Anna. There wasn't anything you owed more than that and you stayed with her. She didn't have to face the dark on her own."

"Atticus did."

"He made a choice and, as unfortunate as it sounds, he couldn't see past his grief to the little girl who would've reminded him painfully of his wife but could've been his salvation." John reined his own emotions, "What happened to her?"

"Victoria?" John nodded and Anna furrowed her brow a moment as she remembered. "His parents took custody of her, since most of her inherited fortune was theirs, and everything else Rose's parents managed… what little they could."

"What do you mean?"

"Her mother and father divorced some time ago and their relationship was never genial, by any means, and they wouldn't be the ideal place for a child to grow up." Anna shivered, "It was hard enough for Rose to grow up there. I can't imagine her daughter trying to break free of that house."

"Rose did."

"Rose wasn't the kind of person you'd want to know well when she did. Atticus changed her for the better and that's the person she wanted to be for her daughter." Anna's voice mellowed to a hush again, "The person she never had the chance to be for her daughter."

"I don't think we're ever the people we want to fully be when we want to be that."

"No?"

"The moments that matter aren't the moments we recognize until much later. If we wait, thinking we'll be ready for them, we'll miss the chance to really change when we should've."

"Do you wish you were different now?"

"Of course I do, everyone does."

"I don't."

John widened his eyes, "You don't?"

"No." Anna tugged the covers down to the end of the bed to leave them dangling over the edge. "I'm exactly where I want to be, with the person I want to be with, and representing the best person I can be at the moment."

"Naked as the day you were born?" John tried to taunt but when Anna's fingers brushed over his budding arousal he twitched under her.

"Free of all cares and worries is an attractive appearance."

"I quite agree."

"Which is why I'm about to ask something that I might not otherwise suggest." Anna snorted, "Actually, none of this is something I would normally do."

"Engage in rampant sexual activities with a relative stranger?"

"I'm of the opinion that if you're investigating a murder case on a train stranded in snow then you're no longer strangers." Anna put her hands on his shoulders, keeping to her knees to hold herself above him. "Isn't that what Lord Grantham was trying to accomplish with lunch and tea yesterday?"

"I think it was." John cupped the back of her neck, "Unless you feel we're still strangers and want to do something to fix that."

"I wouldn't do this with a stranger." Anna put her mouth to his ear, "I'm sure, in your vast realms of experience, you've got something you'd like to try."

"Many things."

"Then you won't mind if I suggest something?"

"Anything," John could barely breathe, wanting so desperately to move but also incapacitated by the moment.

"Then would you please…" He felt her swallow with the vibration of the action trilling down his own neck. "Take me from behind?"

"Are you sure?" John risked a motion to move Anna into his line of sight. "I don't want to do anything if you're not-"

"I'm sure John." Anna's eyes did not waver, "I want something new, something… something primal to block out the reality of what we're doing."

"What we're doing?"

"We're finding the deepest griefs in the people we know John. The people who responded on instinct when the moment struck." Anna placed his hand over her heart. "I want to feel that."

"Only if you're sure."

"There are few things I've been more sure of in a moment like this." Anna slipped back from him, "I want to feel that."

John nodded and leaned forward, "Then you'll have to trust me."

"I already do."

With a swift motion, John kissed Anna. Her hands fluttered to grasp at his neck and scalp, holding him under her control, until she cried out in surprise as John flipped her so her back rested on his chest. He forced their pause, waiting for her to change her mind. But Anna only turned her head to kiss him again.

It took them a touch of maneuvering but John held Anna around the waist as he leaned over her. His kisses over her shoulders and back soothed her tightened muscles until John could sense the tension leaving her. And he used it to his advantage as his hand sculpted down her stomach to tease between her legs.

Anna moaned, head hanging low, and John worried the folds of slick skin under his care. Careful and conscious kisses landed over her back and neck to heighten her pleasure while his fingers delved inside her. When her voice betrayed that she could take no more, John gripped her hips and drove forward.

They stayed still, panting, until John drew to the edge. Anna whimpered and John acquiesced, maintaining a slow pace to drive her toward the climax just out of her reach. His fingers, grabbed by hers in a quivered flurry, pressed at her bundle of nerves until she broke in his arms.

John went to withdraw but Anna thrust herself back. The motion caught him by surprise and he choked a moment, his own arousal hanging by a thread of tension. Her hips rocked against him and John took a moment to appreciate the view of her exposed back that swooped toward her ass as it nestled securely between his hips. It was all he needed to respond to her need.

That primal part of himself worked free, raw and desired in the privacy of their berth. It plunged and drove, rutting mercilessly until she broke under him again, before allowing his freedom. The beautiful release that came with a growl and a groan.

They both slumped down, Anna's face buried in the pillow and John maneuvering them carefully not to rest his weight on her. She took his arm, wrapping it around her, and sighed at the comfort she found in the motion. The sigh he returned as he spooned around her.

"Are you satisfied Ms. Smith?"

"Yes," She relaxed against him. "Thank you."

"My pleasure."

"I believe it was mine… twice." Anna nudged his ribs with her elbow and John responded with a line of kisses over her neck.

They settled, quiet in the presence of one another, until John finally spoke. "I believe we need to get about our job again soon."

"Why can't we just stay here?" Anna whined and John leaned over her. "We could just tell Mr. Moseley we were wrong."

"I'm not going to lie to the man, Anna. He's already been through more than he should've on what was such an easy job for him before."

"And the others?"

"I don't know." John huffed, "I just know we've got to set things right. However that happens and whatever that means, I don't know but I know we're not done yet."

"Then," Anna pushed away from him, walking toward the water closet, "We've not got time to lose."


	15. The London Trilogy

"I think we'll barely be in time for lunch at this rate." John hurried to comb his hair back, still damp from the rinse he managed in the little time left him.

"Won't we make a sight?" Anna tucked her shirt in place, touching at her own wet hair. "If we thought we had anyone fooled we were sorely mistaken."

"Better they think we're continually sneaking off to… do other things than realized our true intentions." John turned toward his cabin as someone knocked on the door. Opening it he saw Mr. Moseley, wringing his hands, in the corridor. "Mr. Moseley, how can we help you?"

"I thought you should know that the snow clearing crews believe we'll be free by tomorrow morning, tomorrow afternoon at the latest and we'll continue on our journey."

"That's good news… isn't it?"

Mr. Moseley jerked at his shoulders, like a tick controlled his motions. "It would be if you could tell us who murdered that man locked in the kitchen freezer."

"It's not as simple as pointing the finger to one person, Mr. Moseley."

The nervous man balked, "I hope you're not suggesting there are multiple killers on this train, Mr. Bates."

"No, he's not." Anna interrupted, "He's just indicating there are extenuating circumstances that we're discovering that've made unraveling this particular case a bit more interesting than we originally anticipated."

"Then you're-" Before Mr. Moseley could continue his question Blake came into view.

He frowned at Mr. Moseley and then turned to John. "Might I have a moment of your time?"

"I think…" John shot a look to Anna, who only shrugged, and then turned to Mr. Moseley. "If I could take a minute with this gentleman and then address your concerns, Mr. Moseley?"

Mr. Moseley nodded, stepping back as Blake stepped into John's room and closed the door. His hands clapped together and he swallowed as Anna and John took position before him. He managed a weak laugh, "I'm sorry, I do hope I'm not interrupting anything… private."

"You're just in time to have missed interrupting us Mr. Blake." Anna lifted her chin, "How can we help you?"

"Based on what Mr. Gillingham told me after you escorted him away, Mr. Bates, would I be correct in assuming you're investigating the death of Mr. Green and not his disappearance as the German police are?"

"That would be correct." John waited, "Is that of any significance to you Mr. Blake?"

"It does but…" Blake's jaw shifted, like it wanted to weigh his words before he settled on the ones most apt for the conversation. "It's a bit awkward."

"I'm sure things will get more awkward for a great many more people if we don't have all the facts."

"Quite right." Blake nodded at Anna, "I guess the difficulty of the situation is that if I admit to what I've done then you could, in all fairness, make my life difficult."

"We're not in the habit of making life difficult for those doing their best."

"And yet you're trying to find the killers of a man who, by all accounts, deserved what he got."

John sighed, "There is a bit of a paradox to this situation but we're trying to find the guilty parties so the Germans don't have another option first."

"I guess this must be more difficult for you than I imagined." Blake pointed to the bed, "Would you mind if I took a seat?"

"Be my guest." John sidestepped to give Blake the room. "But what could you tell us that would be so damaging to you?"

"I know that you didn't gather all that information on Green just from your work, Mr. Bates, because I know what the government knew about him and it wasn't much." Blake sighed, "He wasn't even on anyone's radar really."

"So we've heard." Anna leaned on the small table.

"Except," Blake held up a finger, "I know the man calling himself 'Mr. Talbot' is not in fact really named 'Talbot' and he does the kind of work the likes of us only whisper about."

"He's not the perpetrator."

"That I know, Mr. Bates." Blake swallowed, "Because while I also know you think the work I do for the government is agricultural it's not. I work for Naval Intelligence. A bit higher up than our Mr. Talbot, which is why he's not aware of this while I'm aware of him, but not enough to be of any real significance."

"What do you know, Mr. Blake?"

"I know Evelyn Napier." John's eyes widened and Blake nodded. "I thought you'd recognize the name."

"Who's Evelyn Napier?" Anna frowned, "I'm not so familiar."

"He's my partner, at Naval Intelligence, and he was murdered last year. As fate would have it, on the trail of the group we believed Green was trying to work for."

"I investigated that."

"I know, Mr. Bates, and I'm sorry for how we had to bungle it for you."

"I took demerits for that."

Blake shrugged, "I did just apologize."

"I think," Anna put a hand on John's arm to stop his retort and moved to slot herself between the two men. "We need your explanation. Or I do because I don't understand what's happening between the two of you at this moment."

"It would appear that Mr. Blake here was responsible for the cocking up of a case I had just after the Sixth Earl of Grantham went missing." John took a deep breath, "There was a man murdered near the East India Docks we identified as Evelyn Napier. A man we thought worked for the Government in areas of agriculture."

"He did… technically." Blake shrugged, "We both did before we got recruited to work for Naval Intelligence?"

"Would Mr. Talbot know this story?" Anna pressed and Blake worked his head from side to side as he responded.

"He might. He and Evelyn were acquainted but I don't know if they were friends."

"But he was working the same case as Mr. Talbot? The one involving those German agents?"

Blake's eyes widened, "My, my, Mr. Talbot did let his lips fly in the presence of you two."

"He didn't really have a choice." John supplied before directing Blake's attention back to him. "What did Mr. Napier find?"

"He was on their trail and almost had them but someone stabbed him from behind." Blake managed a breath, "I found him and he passed on some vital information to me before he… passed."

"Details you failed to share with the police when you 'happened' on the scene later." John folded his arms over his chest, "What did Mr. Napier say?"

"Some of the information we used in an investigation you're not cleared to know even exists so we'll leave that there. What he did confirm was Green's involvement with the group and his fee for entry."

"I beg your pardon?"

"The Sixth Earl of Grantham, Ms. Smith." Blake turned to the floor, "He offered a percentage of the money he earned on his ill-gotten ransom and proof of the child's death as his entry fee into their little club."

"Did they take him?"

"They took some of his money and then laughed in his face apparently." Blake snorted, "Served the bastard right in my opinion but that's neither here nor there since he just turned to petty crime before running to the shelter of the continent."

"Did you follow his progress?" John narrowed his eyes at Blake's face. "I'm going to assume your presences on this train is no more coincidence than anyone else gathered for this little venture."

"If you think I had something to do with Mr. Green's murder you're wrong. Not to say-"

"That you wouldn't have refused the opportunity to participate if you knew?" John heard the bitter twinge to his voice, "I've heard that from a few people already and I've not interest in hearing it again."

"It's true. The Crawleys aren't exactly friends of mine but if I could've done something I would've."

"I get the feeling you already have Mr. Blake." Anna finally spoke again, "I know the Crawley family and their desperation to find the person who killed their son. I know they had resources but they never would've picked Mr. Green out of a line-up on their own."

"Not sure I follow the accusation I'm sure you're leveling in my direction Ms. Smith."

"What I'm suggesting, Mr. Blake," Anna bent slightly to put her eyes equal with that of Blake's, "Is the information you really want to share with us, the information burning a hole in your pocket, has to do with what you must've let slip to either the Crawley's investigator or to the Crawleys themselves."

Blake's face broke into a smile, "You are sharp Ms. Smith."

"I read people well. It's one of my gifts." Anna straightened, "I'll also assume it's the latter."

"It is." Blake cleared his throat, "I happened to learn this information from Evelyn Napier, about the Germans, and I reported it to my superior. I knew Talbot was following the case and had his own suspicions about the breadth of Mr. Green's activities in terms of his rather horrid nature but we couldn't give the information to the police in its raw form because how we got it was…"

"Less than legal?"

"Let's just say it wasn't anything we could've defended in a courtroom, Mr. Bates." Blake coughed, "But it was enough for us to watch him until he went to the continent and then we tracked him for a time but we've other interests that need our attention more than a serial rapist and child-killer."

"The great moral compass of the government then?" Anna growled and Blake spluttered.

"The Naval Intelligence Service has left no claim as to the kind of compass it uses and I can assure you its morality is more generalized than that."

"How convenient for them."

"How convenient for the island we protect." Blake defended, adjusting his tie. "All I know is, I retrieved the information and I felt… compelled to do something about it."

"But taking a direct hand in it would be to your detriment?" John cocked an eyebrow and Blake nodded.

"Gillingham and I work closely in our department but he's no idea that I'm planted there from another agency. I knew that I couldn't pass information through my department unless I wanted to find myself in a dark place from which I might never return and I didn't have acquaintances who could help me so I found another option."

"The other person you mentions?"

"Gillingham's wife, Mabel."

"Mabel Lane Fox, the heiress socialite?" Anna managed a chuckle, "I knew she was smart but I never figured her for someone to pass secrets to anyone."

"Mabel and I've worked together on British soil for a long time in this regard, Ms. Smith." Blake smiled, "I introduced her to Gillingham and credit myself with their marriage."

"What does she do for you?"

"Ms. Fox, as she's still called for social reasons, tends to give me information she hears from the flapping of very loose lips in social situations where the alcohol flows a bit more freely than the sense after a certain hour."

"Is it a mutually beneficial relationship?"

"It's had its perks for her as well as myself," Blake raised a hand, "All strictly professional, I promise you."

"Then she passed on your information?" Anna skipped over whatever was on the tip of John's tongue and he bit it back, realizing his question would not help their investigation.

"She knew the right ears to tickle so the Crawleys discovered the lead."

"And no one in your office suspected?" John sucked the inside of his cheek, "I find that exceedingly hard to believe."

"Whether they suspected anything is actually whether or not they cared."

Anna snorted, "According to Mr. Talbot, not much."

"It's a bigger world out there than solving the grief of one family, Ms. Smith, as tragic as the circumstances of the grief are."

"How quaint that everyone would be willing to extract revenge for the action and yet no one seems willing to've done anything to stop it happening when the weight of information rested in your hands." Anna bit out the words, the strain and twitch of a muscle in her cheek leading John to lay a hand over hers. "There was so much you could've done and you didn't."

"Ours is a complicated life, Ms. Smith, and I'd ask that you think about that before you decide to cast your judgment with such vehemence."

"I'll cast the judgment I like on people who prefer to keep their hands clean when it matters."

"I'll not stay to be the glass tower at which you hurl your stones." Blake stood, "I've told you what I know and I'd ask that you keep the more… clandestine, parts of this conversation to yourselves. It'll mean more trouble for myself and Ms. Fox if news of this gets to London."

"Mr. Talbot is in similar straits and we promise your secrets, whatever they are, are safe with us." John led him to the door, "Our interest is in finding the killer."

"I can assure you, once again, that it's not me. Nor Gillingham."

"We know." John sighed, "You're not close enough to stab someone with that much passion."

"Stabbing's never really been my game." Blake shuddered, "I'm more of a long-distance man in that but it's not my area."

"What is your area, if I may ask?"

Blake smiled, "Agriculture." He tipped his head back in toward Anna, "It's been a pleasure, Ms. Smith, much as you'll not believe that."

Anna did not respond and Blake left the berth. John almost turned to Anna when Mr. Moseley appeared at the door again. "I'm sorry Mr. Moseley, that conversation was much longer than I expected."

"I'd think so." Mr. Moseley nodded toward the interior of the berth and John allowed him inside. "What have you found?"

"We've eliminated your staff, yourself, the valet of our deceased gentleman-"

"I'm sure there are more accurate words to describe him than that." Anna sat heavily in the chair by the table. "Conniving snake would be better… though that's two words."

"Mr. Green's killers," John insisted, cutting over her musings to address Mr. Moseley and win back his attention, "Do not include Mr. Talbot, Mr. Gillingham, or Mr. Blake."

"They've all got alibis?"

"They've all got other reasons for being on this train." John took another breath, "There is more than one killer here but it wasn't the start of a spree. This was a coordinated and logical attack carried out with considerable forethought and planning."

"By whom?" Moseley's voice was almost desperate in his plea and John wanted to answer but Anna cut him off this time.

"Whoever it was, they won't do it again. He was the target, no one else."

"That's a wonderful defense for them Ms. Smith but it doesn't solve the pressing problem." Mr. Moseley swallowed, "The German police have been pressing me to make further inquiries as to the possible location of Mr. Green and if he had other enemies on board this train. Given the reality of our more immediate departure from this unexpected detour, they want to report the incident to the next station with as much detail as possible and they sense I'm holding back."

John held up a finger, "Give me a moment to confer with Ms. Smith?"

"A moment is all you have before they come banging on berths to find me."

Taking Anna to the corner, John lowered his voice. "I think you may be right."

"About?"

"We need to tell the Germans that Mr. Green fled the scene to escape enemies he made. We've enough detail to give them reason to suspect the perpetrators snuck on board at the station stop during the night and then fled in the snow."

"Given that we're about to be extracted from the snow it would be impossible for them to say if there were tracks or not." Anna's face wavered in worry, "Are you alright lying to the Germans?"

"I don't care one way or the other about the Germans. My concern is entirely about serving justice here." John nodded, "Much as I don't think they'll buy the lie we're about to feed it's what we've got to go on now without all of us ending our holidays in rather more cramped quarters."

"With none of the fun."

John winked at Anna before turning to Moseley. "Mr. Moseley, tell the Germans that Mr. Green fled the train in the night after enemies of his confronted him at the station."

"How would he flee?" Moseley jabbed his open hand at the window, "That's snow's prohibitive."

"Having made my way through rather difficult circumstances I can tell you that a man of Mr. Green's… drive, wouldn't have any trouble making his way through that snow to escape the wrath coming to him."

"Wrath?" Moseley's face scrunched in confusion and he shook his head, "I don't understand."

"Mr. Green was a rapist and murderer, Mr. Moseley." Anna supplied, "He made many enemies and, unfortunately, didn't keep a tight enough seal on his mouth to prevent them learning his whereabouts. They planned to extract their revenge on this train but then he got wind of it and escaped into the snow."

"But he's in the freezer."

"Which the Germans don't know and I'd suggest you not give them any inkling to find out." John held Moseley's gaze. "We've given you the story you need to tell them. We'll figure out the rest of it for the authorities we truly care about."

Moseley's hands twitched and he wrung them as if the movement could comfort him. "And you're sure they'll believe you?"

"They want to end this case as much, if not more, than we do and they'll accept the answer that makes their jobs easier." John shrugged, "They're trapped in the same snow drift we are and I doubt they want to be here any more than we do."

"Maybe less." Anna offered but Moseley did not even fake a smile.

"You're not stopping the investigation though, are you?"

"Of course not." John turned to Anna, "We've still got details to uncover and we'll find the culprit behind this."

"And if it's more than one person, as you suspect?"

"We'll handle that in due course Mr. Moseley." Anna smiled at him, "If the German police have further questions you may refer them to us and we'll give the details."

"How do I explain how you know anything?"

"Simple," John opened his hands, "Tell them we've been investigating it."

"Won't they be upset?"

"More than likely but what can they do? We've not broken any laws and we've the expertise to be of aid." John rolled back his shoulders, "I should think they'd be a touch grateful."

"One can only hope but it's a slim hope at best." Moseley nodded at them, "Thank you for your aid in this."

"It's our pleasure." They waited until Moseley left the car and John turned to Anna. "I don't know about you but I'm-"

Before John could say another word he felt something heavy hit the back of his head. He tumbled forward, trying to miss Anna and any sharp objects as he hit the floor of his berth. Anna's voice, calling out to him and then struggling as if something muffled her voice played in his ears as his vision and sense faded.

For a moment he wondered if the killers really had decided they were not going to risk exposure after all. Then he had no more wonderings and no more worries. Then, he was blissfully unconscious.


	16. The Big Sleep

John's eyes hazed to open and his head wanted nothing more than for him to close them again and sink back to that oblivion he associated with unconsciousness. The state where his head did not throb and pound. The state where instead of being bound at the wrists to the luggage rack over his bed he floated weightless and free.

Bindings! John tugged on them and winced as the pain shot through his sleep-deadened arms. A voice, louder than necessary in his ringing ears, clicked tongue against teeth in a condescending taunt.

"I don't think you want to do that." He knew that voice and when John turned he recognized the woman with the face of thunder from dinner. "You might break something."

He squinted and maneuvered to get a view of the man and woman standing in his cabin. She took her place before him while the man, with exceedingly well-kempt hair, maintained sentry behind Anna while she pulled against the makeshift bindings holding her to the chair. John shook his head, trying to clear the fuzz and ringing there, and spoke.

"Who are you?"

"Typical." The man drawled, "No one notices the help."

"You're not my help so obviously I wouldn't notice. And we've not even spoken to one another so the fault's as much yours as mine." John grimaced, throbbing running through his skull. "I ask again, who are you?"

"That's Ms. O'Brien," Anna nodded her head toward the woman before knocking back toward the man behind her, "And this is Thomas Barrow."

"So glad we met your notice Ms. Smith." O'Brien sneered, "Wouldn't want to be forgotten by the ward of the Crawleys."

"I think you confused your synonyms because I'm a friend of the Crawleys." Anna shuffled in her seat, "There's a bit of a difference there."

"Whatever." O'Brien rolled her eyes and turned to John. "And what are you to the Crawleys?"

"Not sure why it matters."

"It matters because we've got you tied to your luggage rack." Thomas spoke from behind Anna, "Now answer the question."

"I knew Lord Grantham during the war but I've not had contact with them since." John tried his hand at the restraints and noted the knot was not as tight as he originally believed. "Why does it matter?"

"Because we work for the Crawleys."

"I wasn't under the impression O'Brien that the Crawley Family needed you as their great defender." Anna struggled in the chair. "Why've you done this?"

"To keep ourselves safe, what do you think?" O'Brien turned his back on John and Thomas turned his attention away from John, who then tugged ever-so-gently at the knot to loosen his hand.

"Safe from what? A nasty reference?"

"From whatever it is you're doing with this man." O'Brien's arm and gaze shot back toward John and he froze in place until she turned back to Anna again. "We're not interested in searching for new work in this climate of employment."

"Not sure why you'd have to." Anna shrugged, "Lady Grantham's kept you until now and, for as much as I have a problem with you, it's not my decision and she seems to tolerate you so what's the threat?"

"Your investigation." Thomas interrupted and then denied Anna a rebuttal, "Don't insult us by saying you're not questioning the passengers on this train about the disappearance of that man."

"What man?" Anna managed but flinched as O'Brien brought the back of her hand up. "You'll have to be more specific, there are a few on this train so I don't know who you mean."

"The one the Germans want to find."

"Mr. Blue?"

"Green," Thomas stressed through gritted teeth and Anna shrugged, her eyes catching John's as he managed to free one hand and tore at the bindings of the other.

"Sorry," Anna kept both watching her, John's fingers scrambling to untie himself. "I knew it was a color but I forgot which one."

"He's the one who…" Ms. O'Brien stopped herself and Joh froze with the comment, his last finger slipping free. "Never mind. It's just best if you take this advice and don't take this further."

"Take what further?"

"Whatever it is you're doing, stop doing it." O'Brien hissed and Anna cleared her throat.

"I'm sorry to inform you, Ms. O'Brien, that the only thing I've been doing is Mr. Bates here and I don't think I'm going to stop doing that."

John used the moment to capture Ms. O'Brien's hands and held her so she could not move. "And I'd like to keep doing Ms. Smith, if you're amenable."

"How'd you-"

"You weren't in the Navy." John tied Ms. O'Brien's hands and sat her on the bed before grabbing Thomas to do the same. "You might be skilled with your sewing and mending but your knots are atrocious."

"You weren't in the Navy." Thomas tried to argue as John set him next to O'Brien before helping free Anna.

"No, but I learned my knots from a Naval man." Anna stood, nodding at him while massaging her wrists, and John turned to the other two. "Now, would you mind telling us why the two of you resorted to physical violence to keep us here?"

Thomas and O'Brien looked at one another but did not respond. John put his hands on his hips and winced, massaging his arms to get all the feeling back to his extremities. "Why did you hit me on the back of the head and try to tie us up in this room?"

"We wanted to make sure you couldn't accuse us." O'Brien whispered and John frowned.

"Accuse you of what? Other than an overall poor disposition?"

"That we killed him."

John's eyes widened but Anna recovered faster. "And what would make the two of you suspects in that kind of action Mr. Barrow?"

Thomas hung his head, "Because we know who he is and what he did."

"And what did Mr. Green do?" John faced Thomas, "Why do you know him?"

"When Lord and Lady Grantham had their son," O'Brien answered, her voice low and her eyes directed to the floor instead of the faces of her now position-swapped interrogators. "They threw a house party that included the valet of Lord Gillingham."

"And who was that?"

"Mr. Green." Thomas nudged O'Brien with his shoulder, "We'd met him before, on trips to London, and worked with him occasionally."

"In what capacity?"

Thomas bit the inside of his cheek, "He trafficked in stolen goods and we would sell him things."

"Things you stole, I'm guessing, from the house of those generous enough to employ you?" Anna's voice tinged with anger and John held her back. "You ungrateful bastard."

"I'm not proud of it." Thomas tried to respond but Anna snorted.

"I'm sure you're not but that's not the point, is it Mr. Barrow."

"We're getting off the point," John interrupted, "Though I'm sure we can resolve this with his lordship at the earliest convenience."

"I definitely will." Anna folded her arms over her chest and John faced Thomas again.

"Did he recognize you when he saw you at the house party?"

"Of course he did. It was going to be our biggest move yet." Thomas took a breath, "But he got greedy and we quarreled and it all went wrong."

"How so?"

Thomas looked at O'Brien, who picked up the story. "I left the door to nursery open and he stole the Sixth Earl."

"You know he did it?" John coughed as O'Brien nodded. "Why?"

"He'd mentioned some friends he had in Germany who'd run kidnapping rings to get money from the rich and he suggested we could do the same with the new baby." O'Brien shook her head, "But that wasn't for me or Thomas. We refused him and told him to take that kind of idea back to hell, where it belonged."

"I'm guessing he didn't take too kindly to that."

"We rowed loudly enough to alert Mr. Carson to our conversation and he stayed on the two of us for the remainder of the house party because of it." Thomas sighed, "But everyone got distracted when the nanny was fired without notice and without reference shortly after."

"When the door to the nursery was left open?" Anna asked and John risked a look over his shoulder at her, leaning on the wall.

"I was supposed to watch the children but I got distracted on an order from her ladyship and I left them… or only a moment." There was a tremor to O'Brien's voice and John almost felt sorry for her. "As I came back the corridor was dark and I thought I saw someone leaving the nursery but then Miss Sybbie started crying and I got her father. By then it was too late. The baby was gone."

"Why wasn't there a nanny there?"

"She was mistreating Miss Sybbie, calling her a mongrel and a halfbreed." Thomas almost spat. "I made sure she was dismissed."

"If only your fervor for justice carried to your other occupations."

John only spared a moment of a glare toward Thomas to stop him responding to Anna's comment. "But we still don't know it was Green who did it."

"He was in the area," Thomas gruffed, "I had a friend in the village who saw him at the pub and mentioned him."

"Friend of yours?"

"He helped with the… earlier arrangements." Thomas mumbled and Anna snorted. "Life's hard for-"

"You can take whatever defense you've got for your abysmal behavior and shove it up your ass, where it belongs." Anna threw her hands into the air, "The two of you were so afraid we'd find the connection between you and a child killer that you tied us up in this room to hide the fact you're thieves and horrible people."

"We've made mistakes but that's-" O'Brien tried to argue but John interrupted her.

"Not the point. The point is, why would you think we'd suspect you two as Mr. Green's killers?"

"Because no one disappears into the snow and if the Germans believed that then they're bigger idiots than the rest of the train for believing the same thing." O'Brien scoffed, "No one's going to risk the cold and the snow."

"Then you think he's dead?"

"It would explain all the nervousness of the family when we boarded this train and for the whole trip." Thomas shrugged, wincing as the action maneuvered his shoulders into an uncomfortable position. "They settled two nights ago and haven't been nearly as fidgety since."

John motioned for Anna to join him just inside her room, with full view of the occupants of his berth. "They've confirmed our suspicions."

"Just because they think the Crawley family did it doesn't mean they did."

"But it does eliminate two suspects." John jerked his head back toward them. "Those two aren't going to kill Green if they're afraid of what people would think of just having dealings with him."

"You don't think those two killed that man?"

"Not if they're the only ones to suspect he's dead." John shrugged, "Call me odd but I find those who commit crimes try not to mention them."

"Hence everyone else insisting he's just missing?"

"Exactly."

Anna sighed, folding her arms again, "I don't like how they'll get away with what they already did."

"The part they played in the death of that baby was tragic but it wasn't anything prosecutable. The stealing on the other hand…" John sucked the insides of his cheeks, "That I'm sure we could make sure gets them unemployed as quickly as possible."

"It's still unfortunate."

"Everything about this case has been unfortunate."

"Agreed." Anna scowled at the two tied on the bed. "What do we do with them?"

"I say we let them go, live with their guilt, and I get some ice for my head."

Anna cringed, "Does it hurt terribly?"

"It'll certainly pound for awhile but I'll be fine." John's stomach grumbled, "Though I think we missed lunch and it's early for tea."

"It's a train John, I'm sure we can find something to eat in the interim." Anna led the way back to O'Brien and Thomas, untying them and stepping back. "I do hope you realize that if you'd stayed to yourselves it would've been better for you."

"Guilt makes one crazy I guess." Thomas rubbed at his wrists, "I don't suppose we could rely on you two to keep our secrets."

"Afraid not." John nodded to the door, "You can go now and start thinking about how you'll apply to whatever other positions you'll find in the future."

Shamefaced and sulking, the two left the compartment. John took their seat on the bed, resting his head back against the wall as Anna joined him. "I don't suppose we could rest a bit before making our grand announcement."

"What announcement?"

"I think," John faced her, "We need to confront our remaining suspects together. We can't let this lie any longer."

"I agree." Anna took a breath, "But I need to steel my courage for it and you need to make sure your head's clear so a bit of a rest seems best."

"Then we'll get Mr. Moseley to gather the Crawley family to the dining car and talk to them in private."

"Not the Carsons?"

"They're just here to enjoy a nice holiday and work for the family. They're about as involved in this crime as O'Brien and Thomas." John let out a sigh, "When did the world get this dark that I have to rank people by their ability to commit crime."

"We're all capable of it."

"But we don't all do it." John closed his eyes, "I just need a minute to rest and think."

"Do." Anna snuggled by his side, "I'll be here when you wake up."


	17. Misery

John swallowed, pacing as noise from the first-class carriage alerted him to the arriving party. With a nod from Anna he shut the doors to second-class and motioned to the chairs before the bewildered group. "I think you'd all be more comfortable in seats for this."

"I do hope this is a dramatic reading and not an oratory," The Dowager complained, "I can't stand useless orations."

"You'll not enjoy this one much more I'm afraid." John swallowed, waiting as everyone took their seats. "I'm going to tell you all a story that you won't much care to hear and won't believe and might even deny but I know the information that Ms. Smith and I've gathered over the last two days is true."

"You've had time to investigate something?" Mary managed a smirk, ignoring the hiss from Matthew and the other disapproving glares from the others gathered in the room. "I'm impressed and a little jealous you both seem to have the energy."

Anna snorted, "It's a bit more than that."

"Bit more than what?" Sybil's hand reached for her husband's and John closed his eyes, steeling himself for the conversation they were about to have.

"A few days ago, when we began our travel on this train, there was one more traveler with us than there is now." John faced the gathered group.

"I only count ten of us here." Mary argued, "We're missing those three men from second class, Thomas and O'Brien aren't here, and someone forgot to invite the Carsons to this little gathering."

"Because none of them is involved in what I'm about to tell you."

"You're talking about the disappearing man, that Mr. Greed?" Lady Grantham frowned, "I thought the Germans told us that he disappeared in the snow."

"Because that's what we told Mr. Moseley to tell them so the Germans would stop searching for the missing Mr. Green." John coughed, "The case is more complicated than that because Mr. Green did not dash out into the snow in the middle of the night."

"Then what happened to him?" Matthew finally spoke, leaning forward as his brow furrowed. "What happened to him?"

"He was killed the first night we were on this train and found in the morning by his valet and one of the staff." John let out a breath, "We believe his murderer is in this room."

A few jaws dropped before Lord Grantham stood up, "This is preposterous and not at all like you Bates. How could you betray our trust like this?"

"It's not about trust, Lord Grantham, it's about the reality of the situation." Anna interrupted, "Mr. Green was murdered by no less than ten people driving a knife into his body."

"What body?" Mrs. Crawley swiveled her head from person to person, "I thought he ran because no one could find him."

"It's hard to find someone licked in an empty freezer." John clapped his hands together, "I think I should start at the beginning."

He took a deep breath, "Mr. Green was the former valet to Lord Gillingham, one of the men on this train, and when he traveled with Lord Gillingham to the house party you held shortly after the birth of your son and heir." John paused, "I do apologize if what I'm about to say will relive any horrible memories for any of you."

"Then it would be best not say it." Edith whispered and then folded into the embrace of her husband.

"Unfortunately we need to short through these events." John made eye contact with Lord Grantham. "Shortly after the house party Mr. Green returned to your estate and kidnapped your son, holding him for ransom with the promise that the Sixth Earl of Grantham would be returned to you safely."

"We don't know who stole our child." Lady Grantham could not meet their eyes, staring at the floor of the dining car. "They left a note and we did what they said but…"

"Anna knows all this already." Mary hurried to say, pointing at Anna. "Why have us relive it?"

"Because that wasn't all there was to the story." John paced before continuing. "See there were factions in the government keeping their own eye on Mr. Green and his antics as his foray into the criminal underworld began long before he found the… temerity to kidnap your child."

"You're saying the government was keeping track of a valet?" The Dowager snorted, "What's it coming to that there aren't enough scandals in the government to keep them occupied elsewhere?"

"I'm sure there are and we'd give you more details about his activities but those actions are…" John shot a look toward Anna and she took over.

"They're not important. All that is important is that one of those members of government aware of his activities decided they couldn't sit idly by and watch him get away with those horrible acts."

"Someone in the government has a conscience?" Tom snorted, "That's something to see."

"It is and we've met them. You have too, in fact." John pointed toward second class, "I'm sure you're acquainted with Mr. Blake and Mr. Gillingham, located in second class, who not only attended your house party but also took active participation in helping us solve the connection between yourselves and Mr. Green."

"Not to sound like the aristocratic people that we are," The Dowager voiced, hand gripping her cane. "But we don't often converse with the valets of others. It's not polite and it's unnecessary."

"He never had a conversation with you because it was Ms. Lane Fox who told you about his connection to your son's death." Anna's words silenced the room. "She obtained that information from one of those in the government who were aware of Mr. Green's actions and passed them on to you… as per her orders."

"My, my," Mary managed, "I guess Ms. Lane Fox is far more than the socialite wife of Lord Gillingham. I think I need to try something with as much excitement."

"Don't you dare Mary." Lady Grantham hissed, "It's inappropriate and unladylike."

"But far more fun." Mary settled back into her seat, "It can't be so horrible to believe that our lives could be more fun."

"I think, given the interrogation we're enduring right now, our lives are already interesting." Lord Grantham jabbed his finger at John. "This is betrayal."

"This is necessary and not an interrogation." John insisted and Sybil's voice broke through.

"He's right, he's not asked us any questions."

"Then he'd better get on with it because I'd rather questions than someone recounting the greatest nightmare my family ever endured." Lord Gratham finally sat, the crush of the carpet under him slowly returning to hide the path of his frenetic pacing behind his wife's chair.

"The only question I have for you, Lord Grantham, is whether you were the one who told Mr. Carson to inform William Mason of the opening as Mr. Green's valet." The room silenced and John noted the ways eyes darted about. "I'm sure that when I lay out the remainder of the case we've uncovered you'll be less inclined to deny what we already know."

"Once Ms. Lane Fox informed you that Mr. Green was the man who took your child you acted, immediately." Anna swallowed, "With the resources you'd already used to find your son it wasn't anything to redirect them in search of the man now traveling the continent with your money as his ill-gotten gains."

"And you thought that kind of search would lead to murder?" Lord Grantham bit out, almost cracking his teeth in his jaw.

"I think great grief drives many to terrible ends." John gripped the wrist of one hand behind his back with the fingers of his other hand. "And I think when you found the man responsible for the murder of your son you devised a solution that allowed you to do what the law failed to do for you."

"You think we'd be so foolish as to take the law into our own hands?" Edith's voice cracked, her husband's grip trying to stop her rising from her chair in what appeared to be a near rage. "You think we'd take the trouble to find this horrible man and arrange his fate ourselves?"

"That's what we know happened." Anna sighed, "Mr. Green's body is in the spare freezer in the kitchen of this dining car. In his body are ten stab wounds. Three of them are distinctive as being arranged by left handed persons."

"That's rather specific." Lady Grantham's voice echoed in its breathy anticipation. "Are we all going to have to write out our names and addresses on something so you can tell which of us uses our left hand?"

"Considering most would be forced toward right-handed writing in school that would be counter productive." John waved at Edith, Mrs. Crawley, and Mary. "I know the three of you are left-handed based on my observations of you at tea and lunch. In those interactions one tends to use their lead utensil with their dominant hand. Though etiquette has its own rules, the chief among them is don't look a fool at the table and that requires we trust the hand best able to wield the tools."

"You think we stabbed him?" Mary opened her hands, "My life as a pregnant woman is far more interesting than it was when I was single and without children."

"Weren't all of ours?" Lord Grantham muttered but John continued.

"Ms. Smith mentioned ten stab wounds. That means the seven others here took part in the murder as well."

"A group effort." The Dowager coughed her own chuckle, "If I remember correctly, the last time someone took the trouble to plan something like this not all the agreed participants actually took part."

"The stabbing of Julius Caesar only proved our point, milady." Anna nodded at her, "They all conspired as one to stab him so none could be individually guilty of the crime itself. If you don't know which wound actually dealt the fatal blow then none is guilty."

"Or conversely all are." Tom shook his head, "I know how this goes."

"But it doesn't have to." John insisted, "This tragedy isn't just a case but a family drama."

"You don't seem to feel the drama in this family Mr. Bates." Mrs. Crawley managed, "You seem very determined to pull this particularly ghastly moment from our hearts and play it like one would a stringed instrument."

"Mrs. Crawley my intention, in all of this, is to see justice served. As the conductor of this train requested when he woke to find one of his passengers was drugged and stabbed to death on this train."

"I guess you believe in a justice that would have my child stolen from me by a man who embodied all that is evil and disgusting about the world." Lady Grantham's seething reply startled everyone and she met John's eyes with a fire he had never seen before. "You believe the same blind goddess who had my baby delivered to me wrapped in a cloth because of what the elements did to him would demand those who did the favor to the world in ridding that man from its face suffer for that crime?"

"I believe that there is a law and there is order and sometimes the justice we seek isn't the justice we get and that we often don't get the ending we deserve." John sighed, "I'm not seeking out the murderers of this man because I want justice for him. I'm seeking them out because the guilt of such an action, no matter how justified, will tear at the soul."

"I thought Ms. Smith said the purpose of the multiple stab wounds was so no one soul had to bear the reality of murder?" Edith's husband, Bertie, finally spoke and everyone's eyes widened. "I'm a simple man and I've simple desires but I know that sometimes those desires are far more important than any law any government on this earth could institute."

"Like seeing your wife happy?" Anna encouraged and Bertie nodded.

"We've all got those for whom we'd burn the world, Ms. Smith. It's not fair and it's not just but the reality of the situation is we'd sacrifice a hundred people we didn't know to save the few we do. The simple mathematics of 'greater good' don't apply when we've taken our emotions into account."

"And that's what we've done." John assured them, putting out his hands. "The reasons the German police have stopped questioning everyone about the disappearance of Mr. Green is because they believed the story we told them."

"The story where he decided to make a run for it in the snow?" Mary shook her head, "Only an idiot believed that."

"I'm sure if you'd ask Ms. O'Brien and Mr. Barrow they'd tell you the appeal of risking it on the elements when your doom could be approaching." Anna muttered but Lord Grantham heard her.

"What about O'Brien and Barrow?"

John and Anna exchanged looks before she spoke again, "They were… colleagues of Mr. Green before he made an appearance at your house party. They were selling him goods they stole form your house and he would split profits with them. On the night of the house party they conferred and he expressed his desire to kidnap your child as part of a ransom plan."

"They did what?" Lord Grantham was already out of his seat and John leapt forward to restrain him. "I'll have them both for this."

"They didn't agree with it." John held his old commander. "They didn't want to help him sir. For as horrible as their actions were, they didn't stoop to that."

"Barrow saw to the dismissal of the nanny." Sybil covered her mouth with her hand, clutching Tom's fingers tightly with her other. "Was that to-"

"As far as we can deduce from the story Ms. O'Brien and Mr. Barrow shared with us, the nanny was behaving cruelly to your daughter, Miss Sybbie, and his actions were in her defense. Further," John finally released Lord Grantham, the man still practically vibrating next to him. "Ms. O'Brien's urgency to do her duties that night did leave the nursery unguarded, as it were, and Mr. Green saw his chance."

"It's unfortunate coincidence, in this case, nothing more." Anna softened the mood of the room. "If anything they're petrified that they'll be evidence of their involvement."

"There'll be repercussions." Lord Grantham's words grated in the fury behind them. "They won't get a reference or a notice from me."

"Not like the references you provided William Mason when he worked for Mr. Green and reported on his movements?" John kept his voice low, forcing Lord Grantham to meet his stare. "What did you do, Lord Grantham? How did you plan all this? How did you expect to get away with it?"

Lord Grantham did not respond immediately. Instead he took his wife's hand, bending to kiss it, and then faced John again while pulling something from his coat pocket. "I didn't. But I was going to be the only one who would suffer the consequences. I was going to protect my family this time… like I couldn't before."

"Perhaps," Anna came forward, her own hand on Lord Grantham's arm as the others in the room looked to their significant others or the floor. "You could tell us how it happened?"

"I think it's time you knew the truth." Lord Grantham waited as the others in the dining car nodded, "And it's time we allowed our grief and our guilt to leave us."


	18. A Crime in the Neighborhood

"Ms. Lane Fox and her husband, Lord Gillingham, had come for a dinner we threw to celebrate my mother's birthday while we were in London for the Season."

* * *

 _"_ _Lord Grantham you are too kind to invite us." The woman with bouncing, brunette hair and a wide smile directed her attentions to Lord Grantham. "And on such a family occasion like this one."_

 _"_ _You've been so generous to Mabel and I, we almost feel like we're intruding." Lord Gillingham admitted but Mary waved her hand._

 _"_ _You're practically family and that's what matters here." She raised her glass, "To family and the endurance of it for far longer than we imagine."_

 _"_ _Hear, hear." Everyone agreed, taking delicate sips of their drinks before replacing them on the table._

 _"_ _I was actually curious," Mabel leaned toward Lord Grantham, "How your search is going. I heard you hired a new private investigator."_

 _"_ _He's had no more luck than the last one." Lord Grantham snuck a look at Lady Grantham but she was engrossed in conversation with Lord Gillingham. "I'm glad you didn't ask the table as it upsets Cora."_

 _"_ _I wouldn't dream of asking such a personal question to a crowd." Mabel shook her head, "But I wanted to mention some gossip I heard that might steer your investigator in a new direction, if you were curious."_

 _"_ _We're always looking for leads." Lord Grantham lowered his utensils, "What information do you have?"_

 _"_ _It's not much but when we were dining with the Blakes-"_

 _"_ _Charles Blake?"_

 _"_ _That's it, the one who works in the agricultural department with Mr. Napier."_

 _"_ _Tragic about him."_

 _"_ _It was. Charles was all torn up about it." Mabel sighed, "But he actually had a guest at his home talking about a rash of robberies in the area that were possibly linked to Tony's old valet, Alex Green."_

 _"_ _Are you serious?"_

 _"_ _It's the oddest thing given how he scarpered after your house party so long ago. Tony thought he'd gone to Scotland or something but the word on the street is that he's in London."_

 _"_ _I'm curious what this has to do with our predicament."_

 _"_ _There's a rumor that Green might've had a hand in your personal tragedy." Mabel lowered her voice further, leaning toward Lord Grantham, "Something about needing to impress some less savory types."_

 _"_ _Are you saying-" Lord Grantham's voice rose and he tamped it down before anyone at the table noticed. He did catch Mary's eye but she returned to her conversation with Tom and Matthew. "Are you saying that your Mr. Green kidnapped my son, demanding a ransom for him, just to impress someone?"_

 _"_ _That's the rumor but I don't have confirmation for it." Mabel shrugged, "It's just a hunch that your investigator could follow to see a bit more success in his search."_

 _"_ _I'll keep that in mind, Lady Gillingham." Lord Grantham returned to his food, appetite fleeing with the remainder of his good will._

 _When their guests left he tried to retire, as Cora had already done, but Mary grabbed his arm. "I think you need to tell me what happened at dinner."_

 _"_ _I think you should be in bed."_

 _"_ _And I think-" Mary insisted, dragging her father toward the library and closing the door to give them privacy, "You need to tell me what Mabel told you."_

 _Lord Grantham took a breath, not meeting Mary's insistent eyes. "She told me that Lord Gillingham's valet, the one who abandoned his service shortly after the house party, might be responsible for the death of your brother… in some way."_

 _Mary raised an eyebrow, "I don't often consider myself a spoiled individual but the thought that Lord Gillingham's valet, with whom Tony himself wasn't very impressed, could put together something like that."_

 _"_ _She hinted that the rumor on the street is he did it to impress someone or a few people or something."_

 _"_ _Tony's man broke into our house, kidnapped my brother, and then ransomed for his life before leaving him in a field?" Mary shook her head, extremities quivering as she bit down on her jaw. "I'd believe it if I didn't find the idea that such a disgustingly selfish and greedy creature ever prowled our halls repulsively repugnant."_

 _"_ _It was just a rumor but it's nothing we can't give to the investigator. Something for him to seek out since he's getting splinters under his fingernails scraping the bottom of the barrel."_

 _"_ _Then perhaps Mama is right," Mary shrugged. "Perhaps our job now if to finish grieving and move forward."_

 _"_ _I can't Mary." Lord Grantham collapsed onto the sofa, Mary still standing over him as his voice broke. "I can't look your mother in the eye and tell her that her children will be safe when I couldn't defend my son in my own house."_

 _He covered his face with his hands, sobbing into them. Mary's light hand rested on his shoulder and he turned toward her, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry to embarrass you like this."_

 _"_ _No," Mary knelt before her father, holding one of his hands with hers. "I'm not embarrassed and I don't want you to be either. This is… horrible, on all of us."_

 _"_ _It is." Lord Grantham choked on his words, sniffing as another course of tears worked down his cheeks._

 _"_ _I think I forget sometimes that it must hurt you as much as it hurts Mama." Mary took a deep breath, "I've not been very good at expressing my own emotions but I don't feel the slightest bit embarrassed that you're sharing yours with me. In fact, I feel quite honored."_

 _"_ _Thank you Mary." Lord Grantham held her hand, kissing the back of it before cupping her cheek with his hand. "I'm lucky to have a daughter like you."_

 _"_ _I'm sure you're luckier to have Sybil than me but I do my best."_

 _"_ _Then please," Lord Grantham pleaded, "Don't tell anyone about this yet. I don't want anyone else to get any kind of hope or ideas until we know. It would crush Cora and I can't bear to watch her crumble any more."_

 _"_ _I won't tell a soul." Mary smiled, "I'm good at keeping my own secrets and I promise I won't let anyone in on this one."_

 _"_ _Not even Matthew. I don't want him or anyone else worrying over this."_

 _"_ _I'm the soul of discretion." Mary stood, kissing her father's head, "Just try to get some rest. If it leads nowhere the perhaps we need to let it lie. Bury this with our grief and my brother so we can all move on."_

 _"_ _And if it is something?" Lord Grantham turned his head up to her, vision still slightly blurred by his tears, "What do we do then?"_

 _"_ _We make our decision when that decision is ours to make, but not before." Mary sighed, "I'm off to bed. We've two balls tomorrow and at least three social functions and I don't know how I'll handle the day otherwise."_

 _"_ _Yes," Lord Grantham stood, nodding, "You should get to bed."_

 _"_ _As should you."_

 _"_ _I'm going." Lord Grantham assured her, nodding at the door. "Go on. I'm sure you'll need the stairs to think of an excuse for Matthew."_

 _"_ _He's trained not to ask." Mary left the room and Lord Grantham chuckled to himself as she left before going to the phone._

 _He pulled it from the cradle and waited for the operator, "Yes, I need to speak to Septimus Spratt."_

* * *

"And your investigator found something?" John finally took a seat, sitting across from Lord Grantham as the rest of the cabin stayed silent.

"He confirmed the rumors and found Mr. Green's hideaway but by the time the police arrived he had already left." Lord Grantham rubbed a hand over his face. "It wasn't until a few months later when Carson saw the advertisement that we actually knew where Green landed."

"What did you do with the advertisement?" Anna asked but Mary was the one who answered.

"He didn't want to do anything with it. He wanted us to leave it alone, said that Green slipped the net and there was nothing we could do."

"Mary?" Matthew faced her, "Did you do something?"

"I asked Carson to send the information to William Mason so we'd have a spy in his camp." Mary lifted her shoulders, "I wanted to know when he'd be back in England, if ever, so we'd have the advantage of having the lead on him."

"Then you recruited Mr. Carson to help you?" John faced her and Mary folded her arms over her chest.

"I did, Mr. Bates, and he was more than willing to help me.

* * *

 _"_ _Carson," Mary entered the small office, holding up a hand as the shorter woman and the tall butler stood immediately in her presence. "I'm sorry, I've interrupted something."_

 _"_ _Not at all milady." Mrs. Hughes bowed her head at Mary, edging toward the door, "I'll leave you to speak with Mr. Carson."_

 _"_ _Thank you Mrs. Hughes." Mary waited until the door closed and Mrs. Hughes shoes tapped away from the office before holding the clipping out toward him. "Did you show this to my father?"_

 _Mr. Carson bent toward the paper, his eyes softening and face falling slightly. "I did, milady."_

 _"_ _And what did he say about it?" Mary took the paper back and Mr. Carson bit at his lip. "I found it on his desk, buried under some other papers, so I know he's not giving it priority Carson."_

 _"_ _I showed it to him, milady, but I believe he has decided he will not proceed since he wants to move on from this horrible tragedy."_

 _"_ _He might," Mary smoothed over the clipping, "But I'm not over it yet and I want to ask if you can do something to help me fill this post."_

 _"_ _You, milady?"_

 _"_ _Not me personally," May rolled her eyes at the way Mr. Carson's eyebrows brushing his hairline. "I need you to find someone you trust who could gain this position and then report back to me on Mr. Green's progress in his crusade through the continent."_

 _Mr. Carson puffed his cheeks and then blew out, "I know William Mason might be available. His father's just fallen ill and he might be interested in gaining the position to help pay the rent on his farm."_

 _"_ _Then please," Mary handed the clipping back, "Send this to Mr. Mason and do whatever you need to so Mr. Green hires him."_

 _"_ _I'll do what I can milady." Mr. Carson took the clipping back, "What do I tell him about informing you of Mr. Green's movements?"_

 _"_ _Once he gets the position I'll give him an address." Mary rolled her shoulders back, "Thank you, Carson, for doing this."_

 _"_ _It's my pleasure to serve you, milady."_

 _"_ _Then could I also request your discretion about this?" Mary wrung her hands, "If Papa and Mama are moving on, as you say, then I don't want to worry them over this. It's not their struggle any longer so all information will come to me. Is that understood?"_

 _"_ _Perfectly, milady." Mr. Carson bowed his head, "I'll do what I can."_

 _"_ _Thank you."_

 _"_ _Though, if I may be so bold, milady," Mr. Carson floundered for words a moment, "I'm curious what you'll do once you find Mr. Green."_

 _"_ _I'm not sure yet but whatever it is…" Mary shook her head, "I'll find an answer to your question when the need for an answer presses."_

* * *

"Was this your answer?" John's voice was almost a whisper but with the tomb-like silence of the cabin it hardly mattered.

"My answer was to find someone who could break Green's neck in the dark of an alley but that plan was rejected as being unethical and unchristian."

"This was your response?" John opened his hand to the group. "To bring them all into this as well?"

"It wasn't just her idea." Lady Grantham's voice cut through the moment and all eyes were on her. "She came to Robert and I, telling us what she found and what she knew. But I was the one who planned this."

Lady Grantham stood, "This was my idea."

* * *

 _"_ _You did what?" Lord Grantham practically pounded the table, sending everyone jumping slightly. "I thought we'd discussed this. We were moving away from this."_

 _"_ _No, you said we were." Mary dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, reaching for her glass. "I took the information you left on your desk and I did something with it."_

 _"_ _Carson!" Lord Grantham rounded on the man, "What did you do?"_

 _"_ _I only provided the information of someone who could serve as Mr. Green's valet since he was searching for one. Lady Mary did the rest of it."_

 _"_ _And what, exactly," Lord Grantham faced Mary again, almost seething through his gritted teeth. "Did you do?"_

 _"_ _I simply happened to arrange that our family holiday this year could conveniently coincide with the trip Mr. Green is making around the continent."_

 _"_ _Because you thought that would be a good idea?"_

 _"_ _I didn't see the harm in confronting the man who killed my brother!" Mary snapped back, almost throwing her napkin on the table. "I don't see what we've to lose by forcing that man into a cell or handcuffs or maybe even off a cliff."_

 _"_ _That's low Mary, even for you."_

 _"_ _Robert-"_

 _"_ _Not as low as ignoring it completely."_

 _"_ _Robert-"_

 _"_ _How dare you? This is a man's life we're talking about."_

 _"_ _Robert-"_

 _"_ _Not a life I'd be too sorry to hope never breathes again."_

 _"_ _Robert-"_

 _"_ _Well I don't-"_

 _"_ _ROBERT!" Everyone in the room turned to see Lady Grantham, chest heaving and hands trembling as they clutched at her napkin in one hand and her fork in the other. "I think Mary's right."_

 _"_ _Cora?"_

 _"_ _I've tried and I've tried to resolve this in myself, to stop feeling the guilt and the pain and the horrible emotions that roiling and rock through me at night but the nightmares still come and I…" Cora sat back in her seat, "I can't go on with my life knowing that man is out there, spending the money he stole from us with our son's life, and living free of the chains he deserves to wear."_

 _"_ _It's not like we can just drag him back to face trial." Robert gaped, trying to find words. "We can't do anything."_

 _Cora did not speak for a moment but when she did her face was like thunder, "Yes we can. Those of us gathered here, who want to participate in what I have in mind, can."_

* * *

"You planned it?" Anna gawked, "I'm sorry but how?"

"We knew, from William Mason's letters, that Mr. Green planned to make his way to the north of France following the European Express line. We arranged our family holiday to take us to Vienna at the right moment to intercept the same train and then booked all the remaining cabins in the first-class carriage."

"You didn't intend for anyone else to know what you planned." John watched as Lady Grantham's head bobbed.

"I'd no intention of involving anyone but those you see in this room."

"All of us participated of our own free will, Mr. Bates." The Dowager voiced, giving everyone a little jump as she punctuated her words with a thump of her cane. "We all decided this together and no one forced any of us to participate."

"Who drugged Mr. Green's evening tea?" John turned to Mary, "Your story puts you in the right place for it."

"In Mr. Mason's letters he did indicate that Mr. Green had a penchant for rare teas and I knew the schedule. I passed into the car when the waiter was preparing it and dropped a decent dosage of the Barbital my mother's been taking to sleep better into the drink."

"High dosages could've overdosed and killed him." John warned but Mary only snorted.

"Then our aim would've been accomplished, Mr. Bates. I wasn't very worried about the possible outcome since all roads led to the same place for us."

"Why the first night?"

"After he spoke to you at dinner we knew he suspected our presence on the train." Lord Grantham took his wife's hand, staring into her eyes as he continued. "We hadn't planned to do it until the last night of our trip but his anxiety over the sleeping arrangements led us to fear he might escape our grasp before we could exact our revenge."

"What were you going to do with the body?"

Everyone exchanged glances around the cabin before Mrs. Crawley finally answered. "We didn't have any plans. After the heat of the moment wore off we responded to the instinct for flight, not fight."

John nodded, "Then the knife?"

"This," Lord Grantham held up the object he extracted from his pocket and passed it over to John. "Was my father's. I brought it with us and then we passed it around."

"Do you want to know the order?" Mary asked but John shook his head.

"I don't think that's necessary." John held the knife in his hand, "I don't want you to have to relive it."

"We're already reliving it, Mr. Bates." Sybil murmured, "And I was first."

John tried to keep his face from expression too much emotion as the occupants of the cabin each voiced their order. Tom followed Sybil, Edith and Bertie followed them, Mrs. Crawley and the Dowager next, Mary and Matthew behind them, with Lord Grantham as the penultimate holder of the knife. Lady Grantham, staring at the knife, took a deep breath.

"I was last and he stopped breathing by then." Lady Grantham wiped at her eyes, "I guess that's all you need to know to convict of us of murder."

"I-" John looked at Anna but she had no answers.

"What's to become of us, Mr. Bates?" The Dowager thumped her cane on the floor. "What will you do with what we've told you?"


	19. And Then There Were None

"And that's all?" The man consulted his notes, risking a look to the side as two others carried the stretcher bearing the frozen body of Mr. Green between them, and then faced John and Anna. "That's all you know?"

"We know he was worried that someone was chasing him and, by all accounts, the murderer snuck onto the train and dispatched Mr. Green in the middle of the night."

"And he escaped into the snow when the train got stopped in the drift?"

"From what we could see." Anna pointed back toward the cabin, "The window was down and there was some noise heard by the others you interviewed."

"They said as much." The policeman bit at his lip. "But…"

"Yes?" John folded his arms over his chest.

"It's what we have, Detective Bates, and it's what we've got to report." He closed his notes, "Thank you, for your time and your help on this case."

"Our pleasure Sergeant Willis." Anna smiled at him, stepping back as he and the other officers clearing out Green's things left the train.

John shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "I guess our own home force isn't quite as bright as we thought."

"At least they bought it like the Germans did." Anna took a seat with John in the dining car as those in first-class loaded off the train and joined the queue for the ferry. "I was worried they might not be so inclined."

"It's the sad truth, Ms. Smith, that we like things simple and direct in our line of work. If it's the story everyone will tell and there's no reason to search deeper we won't."

"You did." Anna patted his arm and they stood, joining the line of those leaving second-class. "When Mr. Moseley gave you the case in the first place you didn't have to delve as deeply as you did."

"And you didn't have to participate at all." John teased, "But I guess we both wanted a bit more adventure on this trip."

"Didn't we just." Anna cringed as she watched two men struggle to get her bags into the pile for loading onto the ferry. "Perhaps I should've chosen fewer souvenirs."

"I'd like to propose a different souvenir." John pulled a small ring from his pocket and held it out to her. "This isn't an engagement ring so I hope you're not worried that my proposition is an actual proposal."

"I know what a proposal is, Mr. Bates, and I know what this ring is so I know that these two things are not related." Anna pulled it toward herself and investigated the heart held delicately in two hands on the silver band. "This is a Claddagh ring."

"Do you know what they symbolize?"

"I know that you point the tip of the heart outward when you're looking for love and toward yourself when you've found it." Anna smiled, "It's an Irish tradition and one I suspect you're very proud to uphold."

"I wasn't in the past because I used it unwisely on a few people. However," John held it toward her, "I'd like you to wear it."

"Is this a profession of your love, Mr. Bates?"

"This is a profession of what I hope is love, Ms. Smith." John offered it and Anna held out her hand so he could slide it over her thumb but even then it was a little loose. "I want to assume that I might one day be worthy of your heart."

"I think you're already worthy." Anna turned the ring on her finger, "More to the point, I know the tradition behind this so I know how special it is. I wouldn't accept it if I didn't mean to return the affection."

"It'll be difficult, given the distances between our jobs and our cities and even our lives but-"

Anna silenced John with her fingers over his mouth. "I'm not taking this ring lightly and I don't intend to let anything get in the way of what I hope will be our happiness."

"Then you're alright with it?" John grasped at the fingers she had pressed over his mouth. At the hand now bearing the ring. "You want to wait and see what we can make of this?"

"I think we can make quite a bit with it, Mr. Bates." Anna tugged him toward the ferry. "It'll give us something to look forward to."

"After we sort out the mess this is going to be." John sighed, "A three day delay isn't going to help me one bit when I report back to the Yard."

"I guess in your case you can't actually use this as a case solved." Anna lowered her voice, sneaking a look toward the gathered group from the train sharing quiet words with one another. "Not if you want all of them to remain free."

"Which I do."

"I'm a bit surprised actually," Anna leaned on the rails, shivering in the cold until John wrapped his arm around her. "I didn't expect that you'd find a way to hold to both your principles and your compassion."

"It can get a little difficult but I think you were right." John sighed, watching the huddle group of Crawleys. "Justice was served and there's no risk that they'll commit another murder."

"The strangest part is that it still feels a bit hollow." Anna tapped her chest. "I know Mr. Green was a terrible person and I know he deserved everything he got for what he did but it still feels so empty."

"Revenge doesn't heal wounds. Only time and forgiveness do that." John took a breath, "I once heard, during the war, of a tribe in Africa that will take a guilty person out on a raft in the middle of a deep lake. They'll restrain them so they can't move and then toss them into the water."

"That sounds grotesquely painful."

"That's the point." John gestured toward the Crawleys, "It's up to the wronged party to decide if they'll allow justice to be served and allow the guilty to drown, as if their right, or they can swim out into the lake and save the guilty before they perish."

"It's a test of their hearts." Anna wiped at her eyes, "I wish they'd had the chance to do that."

"It's the unfortunate reality that most of us don't realize what we can do until the moment's passed us by." John led Anna toward a more comfortable seat. "We're not watching as the wronged party is tossed into the lake before us. That loss of perspective truly does something to how we view our enemies and how we view ourselves."

"I think I'd like to see the world a little differently." Anna went to say something else as Talbot sat down near them. "Coming back to London with us?"

"That I am." Talbot extended his hand for both of them to shake. "I have to say, I was rather impressed by what you did back there. It takes a great man to do what you did."

"And a great woman." John released Talbot's hand and he snorted.

"I thought that was obvious. I've known from the beginning of this particular case that Ms. Smith was the better of the two of you and the best of the three of us."

"It's a shame we didn't work with you more, Mr. Talbot." Anna leaned toward him, "Though I'm sure you're aware that you were being watched on that train."

"I did catch Mr. Blake's eye and I do recognize his face so I apologize for the unintended misdirect there. I didn't put it together until after he confided about Ms. Lane Fox's involvement in the whole thing." Talbot chuckled, "She's quite the individual. I'm going to have to keep more comments to myself at social functions."

"I doubt that's a serious concern for you." John shuffled in his seat as Talbot shrugged.

"You never know. With a few drinks and the right companion for the night there's the risk that I share more in the pillow talk than I would under torture."

"Let's never find that out for ourselves." Anna relaxed in her seat as the ferry pushed from the dock. "What will you do now?"

"What I'm authorized to say is that I report back, provide those photographs, and then wait for my next assignment."

"No holiday or commendation for a job well done?"

"I'm sure they'll take our impromptu three-day delay on the tracks as holiday enough." Talbot's tone sobered, "There's rumors that we'll be at war again soon and there's no time to waste on the beaches of Barcelona if that's true."

"Do you believe it is?"

Talbot turned to Anna, "Based on what I saw, yes I do. Maybe not tomorrow, not next month, or even a year from now but it's coming faster than we're prepared for and much faster than we can manage on our own."

"Not an overly inspiring thought."

"And just after you solved a murder with multiple homicides." Talbot mused, "I think the worst part, for them, is that they'll live with the guilt of their righteous action for the rest of their lives."

"How'd you know that?" Anna frowned as Talbot stood.

"Because I still see the face of the first person I killed. It was self-defense and in defense of my country but I'll always remember that face." Talbot tipped his hat to them. "It's been my honest pleasure to be what assistance I could in this venture and I hope we never meet under such dire circumstances in the future."

"I'd rather we found a way to meet socially." John shook Talbot's hand once more, standing with him. "If you're even allowed out socially."

"I am, on occasion." Talbot grinned, "And when I have time I'll contact you."

"How will you know where to find me?"

"Mr. Bates, haven't you learned anything about what I do?"

"More than I wanted to I'd imagine."

"Then just remember," Talbot winked, "We can find anyone."

As Talbot walked away he almost collided with Blake. The two paused, both looking back toward John and Anna, before nodding at one another and gliding by. Blake made a beeline for the investigators and clapped his hands together on seeing them.

"You're possibly the most popular people on this ferry at the moment."

"I think we're simply the most well placed." Anna tugged her coat closer to herself, "But how can we help you Mr. Blake?"

"I wanted to deliver something to you, Mr. Bates." Blake handed over a packet. "These are the official details of Mr. Napier's death."

"Can you truly be handing these to me?"

"Given that I received authorization from my direct superior given your contributions to this case, your discretion in the case of Mr. Talbot, and the way we rolled you over a barrel about it the last time through I thought it best to convince him that you're someone who deserves the truth." Blake snorted, "And the clean record we do hope comes with giving this new evidence to your Superintendent."

"That's very kind of you." John peeked into the envelop before tucking it into his jacket. "I don't suppose there's anything I can do for you?"

"You could think about an offer my department will send you in a few days." Blake addressed Anna, "And you, Ms. Smith, if you're interested."

"It would depend on the offer."

"We need agents for Naval Intelligence. People we could trust to use their limited resources, their intellect, and their experience to help us prepare for what we fear lies ahead of us."

"The possibly of war, Mr. Blake?"

"Exactly that Mr. Bates." Blake swallowed, "It's not a pleasant prospect nor is it one I wish I had to consider but I need to put the good of my country above the pastoral dreams we all have for ourselves."

"And we're what's good for the country?"

"Given how you solved a murder on a train trapped in enemy territory in a snow drift I'd say you're what's best for the country." Mr. Blake took a deep breath. "Think on it and, when you've an answer, respond as directed."

"We'll consider your offer with serious deliberation." Anna shook his hand first, "I do hope your work continues in your favor."

"I work all things to my favor." Blake shook John's hand, "Good luck to you both, if you refuse the offer, and see you again soon if you accept."

After the rather enlightening conversations at the beginning of the ferry there was not much else of excitement for the remainder of the trip. They arrived short of two hours and soon the hustle and bustle of the Dover docks greeted them. Trains and cabs and people crushing together to all make their destinations as quickly as possible almost suffocated John but he wrangled his way through, Anna pulling on his tail.

They secured their luggage in a train carriage and went to board it as a voice called out to them. Both turned to see Mary Crawley standing there. She pointed toward the front of the train. "If you could spare a moment?"

John and Anna made their way over the platform to where Lord Grantham waited. He kept his head low, hands crumpling at his trilby, and only raised his eyes a brief moment. With a shuffle he finally spoke.

"I wanted, on behalf of my family, to thank you both for keeping our secret."

"It wasn't ours to tell, your lordship." Anna spoke first, "And as Mr. Bates said on the train, we weren't there to cause more pain."

"For that we're all beyond grateful." Lord Grantham took their hands, hearty shakes exuding from his firm grip. "Truly, we can't express how we feel."

"I'm sure, when you have the words, you'll express them then." John tipped to see inside the carriage and frowned. "Aren't you missing a valet and a lady's maid?"

"Mr. Barrow and Ms. O'Brien are no longer in service to my house." Lord Grantham pointed just over their shoulders and John let his mouth curve into a small smile at the sight of William Mason directing the bags onto the train. "I decided that Mr. Mason will do just fine and it'll give him a chance to be back in the house again."

"I do hope it's not an inconvenience for you." Anna winced but Lord Grantham brushed it off.

"What it is can be summed up in two words, 'a relief'. Nothing more is going missing from my home and I'll have people I trust working under my roof again. A man can't ask more than that."

"Will you prosecute?"

"I'm not a vindictive man, despite what our joint venture here might've led you to believe."

"It led us to believe that we're all human and we all process our grief in different ways." Anna took John's hand as the whistle on the train blew. "We need to get back to our carriage or we'll miss our own train."

"Yes, yes, I apologize for delaying you. Go." Lord Grantham stepped to the side but John stopped him.

"I want you to know, milord, that I don't think less of you or your family. Despite what you all may think of yourselves, justice was served on that train."

"And yet we all feel so abysmally guilty."

"It's natural but I do hope," John clenched his teeth over another whistle, "That you realize you can all heal now. The nightmare is over."

"He's still gone, Bates."

"He was gone before, sir." John hurried away, calling back as he did. "But now you can sleep peacefully knowing he won't be joined by anyone else's child."

John managed to get himself into the carriage as the train stretched to pull out of the station. Anna shut the door after him and sat across from him in the seat. They both let out sighs, giggling a moment before settling.

"It's been some time since we just sat in a train car with nothing else to do."

"I know what we're going to do Ms. Smith." John grinned and she managed a wary smile.

"What?"

"I'm going to get to know you."

"Here?"

"Of course." John cleared his throat, "What is the title of your article?"

"You can't be serious."

"I've very serious and I'm very interested." John set his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. "I want to know everything there is to know about you, Ms. Smith, so that when I do marry you it's about more than just what we shared on that train."

"We shared quite a bit on that train."

"Yes we did." John reached for her hand, caressing first over the ring on her thumb and then on the ring finger of her left hand. "But I want to share more with you one day and I'd rather start preparing for that now."

"Well then," Anna clung to his fingers in turn. "I'll call it, 'Murder on the European Express'… if that's not too gauche."

"I think it's rather appropriate." John kissed her hand. "It's beautiful."


	20. All that Remains

He pulled her tight to him, lips covering hers in a rush. Her hands grappled to reach the back of his neck to sink her fingers into his hair and hold him closer to her. In a moment he backed her against the wall and held her there as he plundered her mouth.

When they broke for air all he could do was smile at her. "Are you sure?"

"I should hope so." She grinned back, "I don't know what kind of woman I'd be if I couldn't track my monthlies close enough to know when I've missed one too many."

He sunk to his knees, hands caressing her stomach through the fabric of her blouse before laying a kiss there. "This is the happiest day of my life."

"Is that so Mr. Bates?" Her tone had him standing as swiftly as he could. "Happier than our wedding?"

"I was using hyperbole, Anna."

"I'm sure." Anna could only hold out a minute longer before she tugged him by the lapels back to her lips. "Are you truly happy John?"

"Was my reaction not indication enough?"

"I don't know," Anna teased, running a finger down his jaw, "I think I might need a bit more convincing."

"Do you?" John bent to sweep Anna off her feet and carried her over the bed where he laid her down before covering her body with his own. "And how should I convince my beautiful wife that I've never been more happy than I am now knowing that we're going to have a child?"

"You could let me welcome you home." Anna's fingers played with his jacket, sliding the fabric over his shoulders to drop it to the floor by the bed. "You've been gone for some time."

"I have." John admitted, taking charge of his cuffs while her fingers tickled their way through slipping buttons. "But Mr. Talbot just refused to be saved without saving this lovely agent and her husband."

"Oh, a hero too." Anna laid a trail of kisses down the exposed line of his chest, "Imagine how lucky I must feel to know I married such a dashingly handsome and daringly brave man."

"Not as lucky as me knowing I married one of the most intelligent and capable writers and analysts our superiors have ever known." John bent over her, exchanging his own kisses over her throat. "I'm sure they're realizing your potential faster than the paper ever did."

"They see my talent, that's for sure." Anna adjusted, sighing when John's hands glided over her. "What about the agents?"

"They're safe and finding new employment to be closer to one another." John paused, lifting his head to better see Anna, "Like you and I did."

"Are they as happy as we are?"

"No one else could ever be this happy." John moved his hands to her face, holding her steady so they could look into one another's eyes. "No one could love the way that I love you."

"Then please," Anna lifted her hips just slightly, "Will you prove it to me?"

John's shirt soon drifted to the floor and he basked in the sensation of Anna's fingers and mouth tracing every bit of his skin she could find. They managed his undershirt over his head before John pulled back ever so slightly. When Anna tried to reach for him, John kissed her cheek.

"Please, I want to take my time proving it to you."

Anna smiled and laid back as John kissed over her cheek, occasionally flicking out with his tongue to tease her skin and leave her panting for breath. His fingers slipped over her buttons but her fingers covered his, the cool of the rings there sending a shiver through him, and she managed to open the fabric so he could run his hands around the skin of her stomach. He kissed there, right where he imagined the baby growing inside her would be, before tracing his tongue in a stripe up her chest to ring kisses over her neck.

They maneuvered to drop her blouse on the floor and with a moment of struggle John let her brasserie drift to join it. Anna's sighs and whimpers guided his efforts lavishing attention to her breasts and torso. With hands massaging and kneading her skin carefully but with significant determination and his mouth kissing and suckling at her breasts, Anna soon dissolved into unintelligible murmurs. And when he nipped or scraped his teeth over her nipples she cried out to leave his hips rutting toward the bed.

Her hands pushed at him, trying to aim for his trousers or belt or her own skirt but John barely responded to her efforts. He managed to remove her skirt and hosiery, leaving them as victims of their efforts, before tickling his fingers along the edge of her knickers. John kissed her, slowly and surely, to distract her as his fingers snuck under the elastic to run along her seam.

The buck in her hips left John grinning and he set his mouth on a trail south while his fingers smoothed the fabric of her knickers down her legs. His mouth planted kisses to her right ankle as he left her free of clothing and lifted up only long enough to lose his own clothes. Then he began up the other leg to end near her hips.

Anna shifted up onto the bed, giving John more room, and he stalked toward her to trace the smallest of indentations on her skin. Signs of where her knickers had just been soon bore the marks of his tongue, lips, and teeth. And Anna sank back into the pillows at the head of their bed when John set his sights on her swelling folds.

John let his tongue and fingers caress there, learning her anew and tasting afresh while Anna's body twitched and writhed beneath him. A gentle press of his shoulders spread her trembling legs wider as his fingers dipped and spread her for the exploration of his mouth. When she could only chant his name, John delved deep to bring her to the edge.

He held her there, gritting back at his own arousal, and finally flicked his wrist to send her other the edge. Anna howled at the ceiling and John pulled back slowly, massaging the clenching muscles and kissing at her vibrating skin. Landing a final kiss above her belly button, John returned to her mouth.

She surged up to take him, wrapping a leg over his hip, and soon John rubbed and rutted his erection over her slippery center. Anna gasped, the muscles in her jaw twitching as her neck arched back at the feel of him, and dug her fingers into the back of his neck. Their eyes met and without a word John drove forward.

Groaning in unison, John drew back to the edge to thrust in again. He struck deeply inside her but with a lift of her leg at the knee he reached even deeper. Sweat built on her forehead and over his back as he measured his strokes long and sure, increasing speed fractionally as he maneuvered with slight adjustments to rub his pelvic bone against her bundle of nerves. The same bundle that had Anna's chest heaving to a steady pant while her other hand snaked between them.

John pressed himself on it, giving her the friction she needed, and Anna's shriek echoed in his ears. It almost triggered something inside of him as he plunged forward, forgetting about measuring himself in the frantic race to reach the high where Anna waited for him. The high she held him reach with a press at the base of his back with her hand and the digging of her heel into his ass.

With his own grunt and moan, John released and only just caught himself from falling on Anna. She tried to urge him closer but John shifted to the side, bringing Anna with him, and brushed hair from her face. They stared at one another until John slipped free and laid another kiss on her abdomen.

"I think we should name him."

"Him?" Anna managed a snort, her chest still rising and falling faster than normal. "And what makes you so sure it's a 'he' and not a 'she'?"

"Nothing specific, just an inkling."

"That's not enough."

"It is for my work." John chided, running the back of his finger over her cheek. "And call it a gut instinct but I think it'll be a boy."

"And why," Anna crooked her arm to rest her head in her hand with her elbow on the bed, "Would you instinct say it's a boy?"

"Something about conceiving him in a standing position?" John raised his arm to defend himself as she batted at him. "Alright, it was a joke."

"Just because you and I happened to be on my desk at the time doesn't necessitate it'll be a he." Anna laid back, "I'm hoping for a girl."

"And why's that?" Anna grew quiet and John's face fell. "Anna? Are you alright?"

"It's silly," Anna wiped at her eyes but John caught her hand.

"Not to me." He nodded at her, "Why?"

"Because if it's a girl she'll never have to go to war." Anna stroked her exposed stomach. "With everything that's happening and the declaration of war I… I don't want to raise a child knowing that he'll once day have to don a uniform and get himself killed somewhere."

"He won't have to." John soothed, tucking Anna close to him. "That's why we're doing what we're doing, so he won't have that."

"I'm scared John." Anna whispered against his neck. "I'm excited and nervous and ecstatic and terrified all at the same time."

"So am I." John leaned back, running his fingers in her hair and down her back to soothe her. "But we've got one another and we're not going to fail at this. I promise we won't."

"You're very sure."

"I've got you, how could I fail?" John leaned in for another kiss and Anna giggled against his lips.

"Certainly not in this department." Her hand reached down, stroking over him. "You're almost ready and it's only been a few minutes."

"I can't help it," John confessed as Anna's hand pressed his shoulder to the bed and she moved herself to straddle him. "I've been thinking of you while I've been gone and it drove me mad."

"Did it?" Anna dragged her nails over his chest, working her way down him with intermittent kisses. "Thinking of you drove me mad as well."

"I'm sorry." John choked when her hands wrapped over him, "I didn't mean to cause you any pain by missing me."

"You're back now and the missing is over now." Anna kissed the tip of him, "I missed this too, by the way."

"You did?" John clamped his eyes shut and dug his fingers into the sheets under him when Anna licked her own stripe from base to tip.

"I did." She kissed over his hips, "I hope you don't mind if I take my time."

John only managed a nod before Anna wrapped her lips over him. With her nails and fingers digging into the skin of his hips, she guided her motions as she wrapped her tongue over him before dragging determinedly with a scrape of her teeth. His hips bucked under her but there was no stopping her now.

When she rolled his weight in her hand, he strangled a groan. When she sucked and swallowed, he coughed and moaned. When she brought him to the edge and left him there, John cried out.

But Anna knew her prey too well. John risked his eyes to open as she positioned herself over him and sank down. His hands immediately clasped at her hips, holding her in position as he drove mercilessly into her. Her back arched and John lifted himself enough to kiss over her breasts again, trying to distract himself so he could push her pleasure further.

Within a few moments he gave in and released into her, the tension and sweet, wet clutch of her walls around him too much to endure. Anna rode the high, guiding her hands to finish herself, and soon rested her forehead on his shoulder. Wrapping a hand around her back, John lay on the bed and waited for their breath to return the capability for speech.

"I think," He finally managed, "We may need to consider that this is not always going to be possible."

"And why would you say that?" Anna shifted enough to work off of him and lay at his side.

"Because when we've got a little one we'll be exhausted or they'll run around the house and see something they shouldn't."

"Then we'll get a lock for the door and we'll find a way." Anna raked his hair back. "We solved a murder on a train, Mr. Bates. I think we can solve that."

"You're right Mrs. Bates." John kissed her hand, taking it from his hair to rub over her rings. "How right you always are."

They grinned at one another and soon drifted off in the comfort of one another. The future still loomed ahead but they had one another. And that was all they really needed in the end.


End file.
